


The Burning Sky

by Beckers522



Series: The Burning Sky Collected Works [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Air Nomad Genocide (Avatar), Airbending & Airbenders, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fire Nation (Avatar), First Kiss, I've probably forgot some and will update tags accordingly later, Kyoshi Island, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Northern Water Tribe, Panic Attacks, She/Her Pronouns for Dagon (Good Omens), Sozin's Comet, Spirit World (Avatar), They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Western Air Temple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 112,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24537322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckers522/pseuds/Beckers522
Summary: "Sometimes when I wake up, I find myself crying. The feeling I’ve lost something lingers for a long time. I’m always searching for something - someone. This feeling has possessed me from that day when the stars fell. I remember it so well - almost as if from a dream. Nothing more, nothing less than a breathtaking view."Ten years have passed since the comet came and Aziraphale lost everything. Ten years he's been on the run, waiting for the Fire Nation to find him. It's only a matter of time before they do. He's sworn off airbending to keep himself alive, but the tattoos across his skin are a clear indicator of his heritage - one that Aziraphale knows the Fire Nation will use to hunt him down. The Air Nomads are gone, war has begun, and the Avatar is nowhere to be found. All hope is lost until, suddenly, it isn't.Demonic in appearance and possessing abilities unlike those of any other firebender, Crowley has made a name for himself hunting people down. It's a job and it's one he is good at. But when the Fire Lord declares his next target to be the missing Avatar, Crowley finds his whole world turned upside down starting with the chance meeting of a very special airbender who would change his life forever.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Burning Sky Collected Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806583
Comments: 383
Kudos: 293
Collections: Good AUmens AU Fest





	1. Title Page

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I know I've been a bit inactive these past few weeks, and I'm happy to announce that this is the reason why :) I've been working very hard on this ATLA AU to make this combination of my two most favorite stories the very best that it can be. The first chapter is out today, and I plan to keep to a 2 - 3 day a week update schedule as best I can. If that doesn't happen, I will do my best to keep you all informed. I work full time in addition to my writing, and going into the office has definitely been more taxing recently with all the extra health and safety precautions. That being said, I am so so excited for what this story has in store for all of you, and I sincerely hope you stick around for the ride.

The following art* was produced by the wonderfully talented Whiteley Foster. If you haven't seen their Good Omens art yet, you are missing out. 

If you want to follow their art, you can find them here:

<https://twitter.com/WhiteleyFoster>

<https://whiteleyfoster.tumblr.com/>

<https://www.instagram.com/whiteleyfoster/>

Also, look for them on Patreon!!

*Posted with the artist's permission.


	2. Prologue

**Year: 0 AG**

He woke up, not to shouts in the night, or a loud crash of thunder or gust of wind against the thatched rooftops, but to the gentle shift in pressure. A whisper of a sound - more of a feeling than anything else - but one that told Aziraphale a storm was on the horizon. 

Try as he might, the young teenager could not fall back asleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, acutely aware that there were a dozen other boys here with him, all sleeping soundly despite what was on the horizon. Aziraphale could hear their gentle snores, feel the calmness of the air around him, so vastly different from that just on the other side of the window.

Turning over once more, the boy gave a soft huff and pushed himself up, the muscles of his arms straining with every motion. Bare feet padded across the cold stone floor as he made his way over to the heavy wooden door. A low, soft creak echoed across the high vaulted ceiling and Aziraphale held his breath, waiting to see if his actions would wake any of his companions.

Not a single one of them stirred.

Releasing the breath that he’d trapped in his lungs, the young airbender silently shut the door behind him and began meandering down the hallway. Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, or if he was looking for anything at all. He felt restless, his stomach swirling within him in a very unsettling way. Glancing out of the nearest window, Aziraphale noted that while there were dark clouds on the horizon, the storm had not yet arrived at the temple. Perhaps some fresh air would do him some good. 

Aziraphale stepped out of the nearest doorway and down onto the ancient stone balcony below. From here, he could see almost the entirety of the Southern Air Temple’s courtyard, filled with flowering shrubs and the occasional tree, green leaves flashing their near-white underbellies with the growing winds. The boy took a few steps forward, leaning his padded arms against the cold stone, feeling the air rushing over his bare scalp like the chilled water of a nearby fountain would each time he stuck his hand beneath the waterfall. The boy shivered, looking down at the sleeves of his robes, cutting off at the edges of his wrists, revealing ten practiced fingers and the tip of two blue arrows, one on each of the back of his hands.

At thirteen years of age, Aziraphale was one of the youngest members of his nation to earn their tattoos. He supposed the gift of bending came naturally to him. Either that, or the boy much prefered study and practice to playing with other children of his age. They were nice boys, at heart, but their boisterous games and voluminous voices proved to be too much for him sometimes. Aziraphale had progressed in his lessons quite rapidly and just this past winter had earned the privilege of standing before his friends and the community that he’d known as ‘family’ for his entire life to receive the markings that would identify him as an airbending master forever.

Only one other had ever achieved such a feat at a younger age. At first, Aziraphale had been shocked to learn that Aang was to be marked as a master at only eleven years of age. Surely, there had been some mistake. Aang was gifted, there was no doubt about that. But he was reckless. He goofed off at every turn and encouraged the other boys to do the same. Hardly the characteristics of a future leader of their nation, and yet, the Elders had insisted on it. They had marked him just as they had marked Aziraphale, with blue arrows running from head to toe. 

It was only after learning Aang’s true identity that their eagerness finally made sense.

“I haven’t seen a storm like this in quite some time.”

The elderly voice was surprising, but not frightening to him. Aziraphale should have known he wouldn’t find himself out here alone. Not for very long. The monks of the temple may be seen as distant and wise, but they cared about the children under their protection. Even the ones who would not be children for much longer.

“Monk Gyatso,” Aziraphale murmured once he identified the figure, leaning up against the stone railing beside him. The elder man looked tired, his brown eyes glimmering with something akin to sorrow. Had something happened? The last time he’d seen the man, Monk Gyatso had been teaching Aang how to properly toss cakes off the edge of the temple walls. The pair looked happy. So why was this man gazing out at the approaching storm like it brought with it more than just harsh winds and dense rains.

“Is something wrong?” Aziraphale asked, unable to keep his curiosity to himself. He didn’t expect to be able to do much to help the man, but that didn’t stop him from wishing he could. What use was a thirteen year old boy’s perspective to someone that had lived almost a century?

In a surprising turn of events, the older man answered him, turning so Aziraphale could see him in the flickering lamplight. The creases on his wrinkled brow looked deeper, brown eyes barely glimmering beneath bush grey eyebrows. Monk Gyatso offered up a soft smile, his hand reaching up to smooth down his mustache before speaking. “The other council members have decided to send Aang away. To the Eastern Air Temple in order to complete his training.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Can’t he do his training here?” It made no sense. The Eastern Air Temple was halfway around the world. It would take days to reach and that was if Aang and whoever else accompanied him flew the sky bison at capacity. The more realistic scenario would be several weeks of slow, meandering travel across the south eastern portion of the Earth Kingdom. “Seems an awful long way to go when there are plenty of air bending masters right here.”

Monk Gyatso turned his attention back to the dark clouds forming on the horizon. It was night, and the stars blanketing the sky above them cast a soft glow upon the courtyard. Enough of one for Aziraphale to see them slowly blink out of sight as the storm began creeping its way closer. 

“There is a storm on the horizon,” Gyatso remarked, brown eyes remaining fixed ahead. Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut as a sharp gust of wind blew by. He could have stopped it. Could have shifted the air coming at them so their conversation wouldn’t be disturbed, but the elder beside him didn’t seem fazed by the coming storm. No. He had no way to prove it, but Aziraphale sensed that the storm Gyatso was talking about had nothing to do with the raindrops beginning to strike the stone railing in front of them, one by one.

Silence fell between the pair. Aziraphale shifted back and forth from one foot to the other, his blue eyes shifting back to the leaves as they tossed and turned in the breeze. More raindrops began to fall as the first wave of clouds reached them, blocking out the stars so the only source of light was the set of sconces on the exterior of the temple doorway.

“You could invoke the Guardianship Clause,” Aziraphale finally spoke up, his voice rising in volume over the wind as it buffeted their robes around them. Monk Gyatso was still in his daytime attire, obviously still awake after the day’s events, despite how late it had become. The teenage boy was dressed in the same training robes he normally wore, but he had forgone the shoes when he’d gone to bed several hours prior and hadn’t thought to put them back on before coming outside.

Gyatso turned, the strangest expression on his face. Aziraphale swallowed, the center of his stomach coming alive like a hive of buzzing bumbleflies. Had he said something wrong? He’d only been trying to help. The children of the Air Nomads were raised not by their parents, but by the community as a whole, but it was easy to see that Monk Gyatso and Aang held a special bond. Of course the man wouldn’t want to see Aang shipped away. He was probably heartbroken at the thought. 

Even in the face of a communal family, each child was given a guardian, tasked with looking out for their best interests. When debates arose amongst the adults over the welfare of a specific child, it was the guardian’s responsibility and right to have the final word. At this suggestion, Gyatso had looked at Aziraphale - a young, slightly pudgy boy of just thirteen years old - like he’d spoken another language entirely. Then, as the words had settled around them, sinking into the cracks in the ancient stone, hanging onto the sturdy branches of the great oak trees before they could be torn away by the wind, the old man’s expression changed. To one of awe and respect.

“Sometimes,” he began, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a smile once more, “no matter how long you stare at a leaf, it takes another pair of eyes to reveal that it was, in fact, an insect all along.”

With that, he was gone. Disappearing through the large oak doors, no doubt on his way to Aang’s room right now to assure the boy that he wasn’t going anywhere. Aziraphale sighed in relief. Despite his sometimes overbearing enthusiasm, he liked Aang. The young avatar’s presence would have been sorely missed had he been forced to travel to the Eastern Air Temple like Monk Gyatso had said. Aziraphale was glad he’d had some hand in allowing the boy to stay.

Aziraphale lingered on the balcony only a few minutes longer. Raindrops pricked against his scalp, dotting the surface where he knew evidence of his white-blonde hair was beginning to grow in. He would shave again in the morning, like he always did. Like he had since he’d been a small child. Helped at first, by some of the women in their community, before he’d been old enough to know how to hold the tools properly without hurting himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, Aziraphale finally forced himself to look away from the oncoming storm. If he didn’t get inside soon, he was sure to be scolded by any adult who saw him for not only wasting a perfectly nice set of dry clothes, but also endangering his health by exposing himself to the elements. 

No sooner had the boy stepped inside, than the heavens opened up overhead and the rain crashed down to earth. The sound of it startled Aziraphale, and he quickly moved to close the door, so focused on the noise outside that his ears paid no attention to the footsteps quickly coming up behind him.

“He’s gone.”

Aziraphale turned to find Monk Gyatso standing behind him, brown eyes wide in the dimly lit hallway, a single roll of parchment in his hands.

“What?” the young boy asked, clearly not understanding the words his elder had just spoken. Gone? Gone where? Was Monk Gyatso talking about Aang? Impossible. Aang was in bed with the rest of the younger boys. Aziraphale had seen him heading that way the same time he had retired to his own room.

“Aang is gone,” the old man reiterated, a single tear sliding down his worn and weathered face. He held out the parchment for Aziraphale to see. “I underestimated how hard he would take the news of our upcoming separation and his fears about being the avatar. He’s run away.”

Panic seized Aziraphale, its icy claws sinking into his chest, encasing themselves around his heart as it made an attempt to vacate his chest via his throat. Aang had run away? In a storm like this? Thunder crashed outside. Rain poured down, not in individual droplets, but in a single united flood. If Aang was out there right now, he was in danger. They had to do something, but what?

Aziraphale closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to rein in his emotions. Where would the younger boy go? If Gyatso was right and he had run away due to his fears over being named the Avatar, Aang likely would have tried to go somewhere he felt safe. He would have taken Appa, of course. No air nomad would go anywhere without their flying bison, which meant his final destination could be miles and miles away. How were they ever going to find him? If Aang managed to make it through this storm and they waited until morning to look, he could be as far as the southernmost shores of the Earth Kingdom, or the northernmost tip of the south pole. There was no way to tell which direction he’d gone or how far he’d flown. They’d be flying blind, and the world was a big place. Far bigger than any handful of air nomads could hope to search in a lifetime.

Memories floated to the surface of his mind as the teenager stood just inside the safety of the temple walls. Memories of laughing children and a ball being tossed about. Of teams being picked and a single boy left out, not because his skills weren’t wanted, but because having him on one team would tip the scales too much in the favor of one side.

Or so the other children claimed.

“I think I know where he might have gone.”

Gyatso’s free hand shot out from underneath his robe faster than Azirapahle would have thought possible. Eyes wide, brow firm, the old man held his ground, rooting the teenager to this spot.

“You cannot go out in this storm, Aziraphale,” the elder stated. “It is far too dangerous.”

Aziraphale shook his head, the decision already made. “We can’t wait until it passes. If Aang is out there, if he’s hurt. He needs us now.”

“It is a foolish thing to ask me to risk one boy’s life in the hopes that it might save another’s.”

“Please,” he tried again, blue eyes imploring. Aang may not be a close friend, but they were all family here. The boy was his brother, and if Aziraphale could do something to help him now, he had to try. “You and the other elders made me a master for a reason. Let me use my talents to help.”

Gyatso said nothing, but the release of the grip around his wrist and the slow lowering of his gaze to the floor spoke volumes more than words ever could. Before the older man could change his mind, Aziraphale was pushing open the door, lifting an arm to wrap the intense winds around him like a cocoon, shielding him from the worst of the rain as he ventured out into the storm to look for the lost Avatar.

* * *

It was a hunch, and a weak one at that, but it was all Aziraphale had to go off. Both hands held aloft over his head, forming a dome of air that kept the rain and winds at bay, he made his way down the mountain pass towards a nearby forest. Though his heart was pounding loudly against his chest, urging him forward, the teenager forced himself to walk steadily. The rain had only been around for a half an hour at best, and already the footpaths were becoming slick with the moisture. On top of that, though his makeshift shelter kept him warm and dry, it did nothing to help him see through the dark summer’s night and the torrential downpour crashing against the mountainside around him.

“Aang!” he called out desperately, squinting through the doom and gloom, looking for any sight of the younger boy. Any flash of yellow clothing, or spark of a red glider amidst the water cascading down on either side of him. Even a sighting of Appa or any other sky bison would have been a relief, but there was no one about. Aziraphale was all alone.

“Aang! Where are you!?!”

His bare feet carried him down the side of the mountain, past valley and gorge until he reached the nearby forest. Nestled in the deepest, densest trees there was a ring of stones. A meditation circle, formed by their ancestors as a place to seek peace and commune with the spirits. 

Aang had been here before. They all had, during the latter parts of their training. Aziraphale had found it to be quite calming and remembered his surprise to find that Aang, too, seemed to settle down within its perimeter. His normally exuberant and boisterous personality had faded into a calm serenity. In this holy place, the young boy found a rare sense of clarity. Aziraphale had seen it happen several times over. He’d seen it the first day their instructors had brought them down this same mountainside. He’d seen it when Monk Gyatso had grown ill a few seasons ago. Most recently, he’d seen it after the revelation that Aang was the next Avatar, and his friends no longer felt comfortable including him in their games. 

If Aang was having concerns about his destiny as the next Avatar, it only made sense that he would come here. On any normal day, it would have been a quick flight from the top of the temple balconies down to the grove of trees he was searching for. All air benders were issued a glider for a reason. It provided them with a means for quick and efficient transportation to places that would otherwise take them much longer to reach.

Aziraphale did not have nice weather to aid him, nor had he thought to bring his glider until it was too late. As such, the trek down to the meditation circle took much longer than he anticipated, but what else was there to do? He couldn’t very well go back empty-handed. Monk Gyatso and the other elders were counting on him. Aziraphale suspected they would be organizing their own search party in time, but if he could bring Aang back safe and sound, there was less of a chance of anything happening to them before the storm wore itself out.

Eventually, the wet ground beneath his bare feet began to level out. A handful of strong blasts of wind propelled Aziraphale over the nearest gorge and onto a patch of soft, damp grass. He paused for a moment, catching his breath and lowering one arm to wipe the sweat from his brow while the other one continued to bend the air around him into a dome shield to ward off the storm. Blue eyes shifted around him as the boy willed them to adjust better in the dim light. Now, not only was he surrounded by dark clouds and sheets of cold rain, but there was a dense forest to reckon with.

What he wouldn’t give to be a firebender right about now.

Although, Aziraphale pondered as he continued his journey, angling his way through the thicket of underbrush to where he knew the ancient site to be. He supposed while a firebender may be able to generate their own light, it would hardly do much good in a storm like this.

Minutes passed by like hours, and with each one that ticked by, Aziraphale could feel the storm beginning to lighten, if only a bit. As the rains fell to a comfortable, constant drizzle, the boy’s blue eyes spotted the first of the stones, standing nearly seven feet tall in a circle around a flat, engraved slate floor. His heart began to flutter inside his chest as Aziraphale called out for the young Avatar once more,

There was no sign of Aang anywhere. Silence was the only thing that was there to greet Aziraphale as he stepped over the threshold of the spiritual circle and moved to stand in its midst. A light fog began to swirl at his feet and the boy let it, his eyes not believing the emptiness he currently found himself surrounded by. 

Slowly, Aziraphale sank to the stone floor, his arms aching as he fought to keep the rain at bay. He’d been so sure Aang would be here. He’d felt it in his gut. There had been a vision behind his eyelids - a tug at his very core. When the monks spoke of spiritual connections and listening to the otherworldly forces that were all around, this was what the teenager had always envisioned. So how could Aang not be here?

Aching arms fell to his side and the water broke through his defenses as Aziraphale rested his head up against the nearest stone surface. It was cold and wet, much like his entire body would soon become, but he didn’t care. Dawn was breaking. He could see it in the way the fog gathering around him turned from a dark navy to almost periwinkle in color. How long had he been out here? Had Aang returned to the monastery already? Or was he still out here, somewhere? Lost and alone and feeling like everything he ever cared about was being taken away from him.

“AANG!” Aziraphale cried out one more time as he slowly rose to his feet. His clothes were drenched now, but the rain had stopped for the most part. The trees around him had transformed from formless blobs of darkness into structures with branches and leaves and bark. Morning had broken and it was time for him to return home. 

Step by step, Aziraphale began his trek back out of the forest. Every movement of his weary legs brought with it more and more light until he could make out the individual branches surrounding him on all sides. The boy yawned, pausing a moment in his journey to lift a weary arm up to cover his gaping mouth. Blue eyes squeezed shut against his will and when they opened again, the forest was shrouded in a thin veil of red light.

Was it the sunrise? Aziraphale frowned, picking up his pace as he urged his legs onward. Strange. It certainly didn’t seem to be coming from an easterly direction, but perhaps he had gotten himself a bit turned around in the storm. Once again, the young airbender wished he’d thought to grab his glider. It would have made the trek back home much easier. 

No matter. He couldn’t see the sky from his position here on the ground, but Aziraphale knew a surefire way to fix that. All he needed was a tall tree with enough branches that would support his weight.

There. He spotted one a few dozen feet up ahead. Feeling a surge of energy he had no right to possess, Aziraphale hurried to its base, reaching out behind him to create a handful of strong gusts of wind. With the practice and ease of someone who had done this more than just a few times, the teenage boy leapt from support to support until he settled himself gently in the uppermost branches.

Was it his imagination, or was that red light getting brighter? Heart hammering in his chest, Aziraphale lifted a hand to part the leaves blocking his vision, only to find the most peculiar sight.

The dim grey light of dawn had been almost completely taken over by a single, bright red object streaking across the sky. Storm clouds from the night before had mostly cleared, but those that still lingered lit up like a wildfire, burning the morning sky bright with color, reflecting the red trail far across the reaches of the sky, from one horizon all the way to the other. As far as the eye could see.

“A comet,” Aziraphale breathed in awe as his mind finally caught up to the wondrous view in front of his very eyes. “Oh, how marvelous.”

It truly was nothing short of a breathtaking view. For a moment, Aziraphale forgot all about the restless night he’d had or the young Avatar who had run away. All he could do was sit upon that branch, clinging to the trunk it was attached to as the wind rushed by him, bringing with it the fresh scent of newly watered earth and the barest hint of smoke.

Smoke? Aziraphale stood up, wrapping his arm around the tree to secure himself as his blue eyes scanned the corner of the world before him. That wasn’t right. Why would there be smoke? The whole region had just been doused with water. It shouldn’t be possible for any traveler to start a fire, and it was far too early for anyone at the temple to be creating one. Besides, almost all of the fires they created had some sort of incense burned along with them This smelled almost like a campfire, but...thicker, almost. Denser. Darker, if there was such a thing.

Aziraphale chuckled under his breath. He had obviously been awake for far too long. Enough stargazing - or rather, comet gazing. There would be plenty of time for him to do that when he returned home. He shouldn’t dally any longer and risk Monk Gyatso spending precious resources on him as well as on the search for Aang. The sooner he returned to the temple, the better.

Shifting his weight to the foot closer to the tree trunk, Aziraphale turned his head away from the comet and the nearby mountain it was soaring over for just a moment to secure his footing. Another breeze blew past him, hotter than before, laden with the natural humidity that came with a summer’s rain.

He looked back up once more, wondering if Aang had made it back safe and sound in time for breakfast. Blue eyes found the comet again, its trail cutting an angry red scar across the pale sky above as it made its way slowly across the heavens. Astronomical events such as this were beyond rare - that much he knew. This was a once in a lifetime experience, and he lingered just a bit longer, wanting to take it all in. To make the very most of this miraculous moment of history in the making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! The first real posting for this story. I'm about 6 chapters ahead at this point and I feel like that's a pretty comfortable buffer. Expect to see the next part up sometime this weekend!
> 
> I hope you are all as excited as I am to see this story unfold :) :) :)


	3. The Festival of Two Lovers

**Year: 10 AG**

“It is a sad day, when someone like me can outdress a man like you. A sad, sad day, indeed.”

Aziraphale looked up from his book to see his housemate and best friend, Bumi, leaning up against the doorway leading down the hall. The earthbender’s arms were crossed, hip jutting out to one side, spiky red hair as disheveled as ever. For once, he had changed out of his simple tank and trousers and was sporting something much more elegant. At least, compared to the clothes the young man normally wore, his deep emerald trousers and gold trimmed robes would be considered that way. 

“Yes, well,” the airbender tutted, moving his sapphire blue eyes back down to the page open on his lap. “There’s a reason for that, as you well know.”

Bumi scoffed, playfully, strutting over to the wall nearest his companion. Still, Aziraphale did nothing, focusing his attention on the book settled between his knees, trying not to yield to the temptation to look up at Bumi as he hovered nearby. He knew exactly what his friend was trying to do and it wasn’t going to work. Aziraphale wasn't going to let it. He was perfectly happy sitting here in their living room, reading his book.

“Az, come on.” Aziraphale sighed and looked up, his blue eyes resting gently on a pair of bright green ones. “How long do you have to live in a place for it to become your home? You’ve been here nearly five years now and you’ve never been to a single festival.” When Aziraphale did not answer right away, the young man pressed his back firmly up against the wall, sliding down rapidly as he tumbled to the floor, falling over onto the side of Aziraphale’s pillow, his legs firmly crossed, knee sticking straight up into the air. 

“It’s _tradition_ ,” he pouted, the tips of his hair brushing up against the airbender’s elbow. Aziraphale sighed, closing his book rather loudly in an attempt to both match the theatrics of his friend and ignore the sinking feeling in his chest that continued to grow stronger and stronger every minute that this conversation stretched on.

“Your tradition,” Aziraphale pointed out as he rose to stand. Bumi would leave him alone eventually. He always did, after some amount of coercion attempts. They’d had this conversation every year since Aziraphale had arrived in Omashu, and every year it ended in the same way. “Not mine.”

Bumi, determined as ever, flopped backwards onto the cushion, arms and legs splayed out as far as they could go. “It _could_ be yours as well, if you let it. Just - open your mind.”

The blonde smirked, barely resisting the temptation to roll his eyes. “Open my mind to what, exactly?”

Green eyes went comically wide as Bumi spread his fingers out as wide as they could go. “The possibilities,” he responded, waggling each of the ten digits dramatically. Despite his vow to remain resolute, Aziraphale found himself laughing, the weight that had settled in on his chest earlier beginning to lift, if only slightly.

Taking his time to form a response, Aziraphale slowly wandered over to the kitchen area of their small home, placing his book down on the edge of the counter as he reached for the tea kettle. It was still warm from earlier in the afternoon, and a quick light of the fire beneath it would have the brew ready in no time. 

“It could be dangerous,” Aziraphale teased as he turned to face Bumi who was still sprawled out on the living room cushion.

Immediately, Bumi rolled over, his stomach striking the floor the same instant both hands came up under his chin to prop his head up. Aziraphale held back a smile, amazed at how the man’s hair could stay so perfectly in place with all that floundering about. “Is there any other reason to do anything, if it isn’t dangerous?” the earthbender shot back.

“Someone could spot me at any moment.”

Bumi grinned. “We’ll have to make sure your disguise is foolproof.”

“The food is bound to give me a stomach ache for days.”

At this, the earthbender leapt to his feet, bringing a hand to rest solidly on his chest. “It is a burden the two of us shall bear together.”

Then, all joking aside, Aziraphale’s blue eyes met Bumi’s, in the saddest of expressions. Shimmering with pain and loss and unease. “You know I can’t look at them.” _The stars._ Neither one of them had to say it out loud. They both knew what Aziraphale was referring to.

It wasn’t the stars, themselves, that the airbender had an issue with. He loved gazing up at the stars, on the rare moonless nights he allowed himself to go outside. Aziraphale would climb up onto the roof of their small home and stare up at the heavens above him. It was his favorite time to meditate. To sort through his feelings, plan out his future. And remember his past. 

Remember all the pain he had suffered. All the people he had lost. So, so many of them, taken from him. Lost forever.

“You wouldn’t have to,” Bumi assured, his voice much more serious than it had been moments ago. “I already scouted out the area. We can stay in the central plaza. There will be thousands of people there, you will blend in easily with the crowd, and all the lights and tents and banners strung about will make it impossible to see the meteor shower.”

Aziraphale groaned. Was he really agreeing to this? Why? Why would he _ever_ want to subject himself to a festival at all, nevermind one that was supposed to celebrate the origin of Omashu - the City of Two Lovers. Yes, the food was sure to be spectacular and he was guaranteed to eat entirely too much of it, but there would also be _girls_ out and about. Girls with their pretty dresses and make-up, flashing them smiles and giggling behind their ornate fans. Bumi may enjoy that sort of attention, but it always made Aziraphale uncomfortable. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason why. Perhaps because he’d always preferred to be on his own. Perhaps because, deep down, he knew he could never reciprocate their potential affection. 

Or, perhaps he was terrified they would discover his secret and he would be forced to leave Omashu, to leave Bumi, or risk being eaten alive by the Fire Nation’s hellfire. 

“I’m not staying up past midnight,” Aziraphale declared, already regretting his decision. That regret, however, flew out the window as he saw his friend’s face light up in anticipation. “And you aren’t allowed to abandon me to run after the first pretty face that bats her eyes in your direction.”

Bumi let out a cheer of victory. The airbender watched in silent amusement as the twenty-one year old man before him started hopping back and forth, doing some sort of mangled jig in an attempt to channel some of his excitement. As suddenly as he started, the earthbender stopped, spinning around halfway so he could fix both of his eyes on Aziraphale. 

“Deal,” he responded with a grin far too mischievous to mean anything good. “I promise to stay by your side until at least the third girl starts making eyes at me. Not a moment sooner.”

Laughter bubbled up in Aziraphale’s chest, despite his slowly mounting anxiety over what he’d just promised to do. Tonight was going to be just fine, he tried to convince himself as he shut off the whistling tea kettle and disappeared down the hallway into his room to change. Spending his days lounging about their modest house in the northern section of Omashu afforded Aziraphale the kind of privacy he found nowhere else in the city. As soon as he stepped outside of those sliding doors and onto the front stoop, he was an insect on display, daring the magnifying glass to turn on him and burn him alive.

He had to remain hidden. Sleeves rolled down, headband tied tight. Blonde curls tight and thick to cover up any hint of blue that might try to peek its way through. It was mid-summer and even the nights could be stifling with heat and humidity, but the airbender would walk the crowded streets covered from head to toe, the only visible skin on his face and tips of his fingers. 

No one could find out who he truly was. At thirteen years old, Aziraphale had watched as a spectacular comet - one that appeared only once every hundred years - had streaked across the morning sky, only to rain down fire upon his home as the Fire Nation struck without warning. He’d been helpless to stop the army that had massacred his family. Killed everyone he’d ever known and loved. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the massive whirlwind of fire shooting up from the ground, as if it had been pulled up from Hell itself. Engulfing the temple in a matter of minutes. He could hear the screams of the airbenders as they tried to escape. See the harsh blue lightning as it rocketed up into the skies, striking down those who tried to fly away.

If someone in Omashu spotted him now, ten years later, it would bring too much unwanted attention. Fire Nation spies could be anywhere. He’d learned that the hard way many years ago. Aziraphale wasn’t about to make the same mistakes again. He had come too far, been through too much, to let them win now. 

He was going to live.

* * *

The festival streets were packed with people crowding in on them on all sides as Aziraphale followed Bumi down the path toward the central plaza. It would appear that the entire city had come out for this festival. And why wouldn’t they? This was the annual event that celebrated the creation of Omashu. The festival that commemorated the two lovers from warring towns that came together. They had been the original earthbenders in this area of the world, learning the craft from badgermoles so they could meet in secret, against the wishes of their families and that of their cities. Hatred and mistrust had been all around them, and yet, they’d somehow found a way to let love into their lives - something all residents of this great city tried to remember on this special day.

When the man, Shu, was killed in battle, his lover Oma had displayed terrifying power in her grief. Her unchecked power could have caused the earth to shake so fiercely that both villages would have been destroyed. It would have been well within her rights to do so, but Oma had chosen differently. Instead, she created a new city out of them both - Omashu - and declared the war between villages to be over.

Now, thousands of years later, the Earth Kingdom city thrived. They used this one night each year to remind themselves that love was and always would be more powerful than hate. Couples roamed the streets arm in arm, reveling in the music and the dancing and all the food. Hopeful romantics waited in the wings until that special someone caught their eye and invited them to stroll around the many lantern lit corridors, up onto the rooftop gardens that had been set up especially to view the festival excitement, the wonder of the city, and the glorious stars above.

“You sure you don’t want to take one of the carts?” Bumi asked as he turned around, eyebrows waggling playfully at Aziraphale’s obvious discomfort. “It would be much faster.”

“And much more obvious,” the airbender pointed out, dryly. Blue eyes shifted from the other man’s face, searching for any sign of trouble. How he would spot it here, amidst all these people, Aziraphale had no idea. That did not stop him from keeping a lookout, however. He knew the worry that was mounting within him would be much worse if he let his guard down now. Out here in the city, amidst all these people, he felt exposed for the entire world to see. Unconsciously, Aziraphale reached down to tug at his olive sleeves, making sure the bands were tight around his middle fingers, securing the triangle of fabric over the back of his hand, hiding the arrow underneath.

“Just focus on the decorations, Az,” Bumi murmured, slowing down so the pair were now walking side by side. Aziraphale took a deep breath and turned his attention from the dozens of people on either side of them and looked toward the small, colorful lanterns strung across the front of the buildings lining the road everywhere he looked. They twinkled softly in the waning light and Aziraphale sighed, trying to force his fears out the same way the air rushed from his lungs.

“You know I’ve always got your back.”

And he did. As surely as Aziraphale knew Fire Lord Sozin was an evil, merciless bastard, he knew that Bumi would forever have his back. While the young man was hardly ever serious in their interactions and had a flare for the theatrics, there was no use denying his natural skills. Bumi was one of the best earthbenders Aziraphale had ever come across in all his years of traveling. If a fight broke out, Bumi would bring the entire city crumbling to its knees before he allowed a single firebender to lay a finger on Aziraphale. 

“Mmmm,” the redhead breathed, green eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he turned his head a little to their left. “Smell that? I bet you five silver pieces that Mrs. Yin is out with her fruit pies. I can taste the moon peaches from here.”

Aziraphale’s mouth watered at the thought. He hadn’t had a decent tart in months. When he’d first arrived in the city, the airbender had barely been considered an adult. He’d struggled to find a job and had lived in poverty for several months until his first run-in with the energetic, brilliant, and somewhat insane earthbender that had become his closest friend. Even now after holding his job at the city’s library for nearly four years, Aziraphale was hesitant to spend what little money he had on items he considered _luxuries._

Being on the run was a hard feeling to shake, as were the habits he’d picked up over the past few years. Still, this was supposed to be a special occasion. Surely he could spare a few extra coins for a rare treat.

As it turned out, the man needn’t have worried. The moment they approached the stand, Bumi pulled out his bag of coins faster than Aziraphale’s eyes could take in even half the assortment of flavors and ordered two of everything on display. The shopkeeper handed the bag of pastries over to them with a wide smile on her wrinkled face and shot them both a wink as Bumi gave her a respectful bow.

“Are you trying to win my affections?” Aziraphale teased, reaching his hand down into the bag Bumi offered him as they wove their way further into the crowd, heading for the central plaza up ahead. Most of the light was coming from that direction with lanterns not only hung from the nearby buildings, but also along banners strung in a thatched pattern from one side of the plaza to another. “Because, I’d hate to be the one to crush your spirits, but you are not really my type.”

Bumi let out a jovial laugh as Aziraphale took his first bite, the tart cherry juices rushing into his mouth, causing a soft moan of delight to escape him. Luckily, anyone close enough to hear them had their attentions currently fixed on Bumi as he responded quite boisterously. “Not to worry, Az. I am merely showing off how thoughtful and attentive a friend I can be to the many lovely ladies you and I find ourselves lucky to be in the presence of tonight.”

Heat rushed to Aziraphale’s cheeks as a group of young women nearby giggled in amusement, patterned faces hiding behind their fans. Bumi shot them a wink and the airbender had the thought to give him a hard jab in the ribs with his elbow. He would have done so, if he wasn’t so afraid the dessert perched in his hand would go tumbling to the floor at the sudden contact. 

“Relax,” Bumi murmured, echoing the same sentiment from earlier in the evening. “See? They’re not even paying attention to us,” he pointed out. Sure enough, the trio of girls had already turned away, eyes fixating on some other spectacle on the opposite side of the plaza from where they were standing. Aziraphale felt a soft nudge in his side and he quickly shoved the rest of the palm sized snack into his mouth before something else distracted him and he lost his grip. “I told you, I wasn’t going to abandon you tonight unless you asked me to.”

Aziraphale snorted, swallowing the morsel down before reaching for another one. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips when he saw the hint of moon peach sticking out of the crimped edges. “What reason in the world could I have to ask you to run off with some girl tonight?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Aziraphale paused, pastry halfway to his lips, stomach swirling uncomfortably at the strange tone that had just entered his friend’s mouth. Bumi was up to something. Blue eyes slid over to take in the other man’s form, studying his relaxed posture. The way one hand held out the bag of pastries for Aziraphale to partake while the other one lodged itself firmly in his pocket. “You might be persuaded to ask if some pretty girl had her sights set on you.”

The airbender snorted. Had his friend officially gone mad? In what universe would Aziraphale ever be swayed by the interest of a pretty girl, if someone fitting that description even bothered to look in his direction? “Seems like a pretty unlikely scenario, Bumi. Best not to speculate.”

His response did not wipe the smile off Bumi’s face, which made Aziraphale all the more nervous. Slowly, blue eyes lifted to follow the green gaze, across the paved surface beneath their feet and toward the southwestern corner where a young girl was standing, looking at them.

She appeared to be a bit younger than the pair, with soft brown hair that fell just below her shoulders. From this distance, and in the dimming light, Aziraphale couldn’t quite tell what color her eyes were. He thought they might be brown, or perhaps a very dark blue, but either way, they were fixed directly on him.

A spark of fear shot down his spine as his gaze met hers. She smiled hesitantly, reaching a lithe hand up to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear, a glint of something shining on her wrist in the nearby lamplight.

“Go on,” Bumi urged, shifting the bag of pastries to the other hand and using his now free one to pluck the peach dessert right from Aziraphale’s outstretched palm. “The least you can do is say hello.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he felt a hand come up across his back and nudge him forward with enough force that he practically stumbled a quarter of the way. If it hadn’t been for years of training at the temples, the airbender likely would have fallen flat on his face. He managed to regain his balance at the last second, shooting Bumi a rather disapproving glare before turning back to the girl, his stomach suddenly deciding the best course of action might very well be to rid itself of the food he’d just so joyfully partaken of.

What could this stranger see in him that would intrigue her so? Had one of his tattoos come uncovered? Was she Fire Nation, sent into the heart of Omashu to uncover his secret? If she learned his face, would there be any place left in the world where he could hide? He should turn around right now and go back home. Disappear into the crowd and leave these couples and those wandering hearts hoping for a spark of romance tonight to their wiles. Aziraphale didn’t need someone special in his life. Didn’t _want_ it. Couldn’t risk it. He was better off on his own, the airbender knew that. So why were his feet still dragging him directly toward this potentially dangerous stranger?

“Well,” she began, a teasing glimmer in her eyes - eyes that Aziraphale could now see were most definitely brown, not blue like he had originally thought, “aren’t you going to say hello?”

The young man grimaced. How had he ended up in a situation like this? Even if his circumstances could be ignored for the night, spending it with a young woman was not how he would have wanted it to go. “I’m dreadfully sorry,” the airbender began, letting his gaze fall from her round face down to the dress she had chosen for such an evening. It was pale blue, with sleeves that cinched around her wrists, a slit in the fabric running from the cuffs to her shoulders and exposing her arms each time she bent an elbow. The waist was decorated in an intricate golden design that almost looked like a collection of patterned arrows, were the man to squint his eyes and look at it in the right way. 

His heart clenched tightly in his chest and Aziraphale brought his gaze back up to her face. Blue eyes shimmering with unwanted tears, the airbender fought back his emotions to finish his statement. “My friend doesn’t seem to understand - “ he faltered, a sudden uncertainly coming over him. “You see, I’m not really looking for anything tonight.”

She shrugged her shoulders, a smile still tugging at her lips. For a girl who had just been rejected, this young woman seemed awfully delighted to have him around. “Neither was I, when I decided to come out,” she admitted, eyes shimmering as she looked up at him. Were those tears he saw? Aziraphale knew why he was upset. What reason would she have to reflect his own feelings? “But, it would appear the stars had other plans. Because I found you!”

What was that hidden tone in her voice? Why was Aziraphale’s heart wound so tightly? Anxiety he was familiar with. He lived with the fear of being discovered every day, but this was something different. This was an aching, a longing that he did not understand.

Resisting the urge to look directly up at the partially hidden stars above, Aziraphale struggled with what to say. He needed to get away. How did he do that when she hadn’t taken his hint before?

“Come grab a bite to eat with me?” she asked, reaching out a hand to grab onto his in a way that was almost painfully familiar. Involuntarily, the airbender found himself gasping, the warm summer air rushing through his nostrils, down his throat, and into his expanding lungs. “I saw a stand on the way in that had fried dumplings that smelled absolutely heavenly!”

_“Aziraphale! Aziraphale, are you and Monk Pasang staying for dinner? Master Aimi said it’s a long way back to the southern air temple and you shouldn’t leave on an empty stomach.”_

_Aziraphale felt a smile creep its way onto his face at the sound of the child’s voice. He turned to see the young girl hopping toward him, her leaps gaining extra height with the bursts of air that flowed from her palms, shooting her upward several feet before lowering her gently back down. The young boy, no older than ten at this point in time, felt his stomach freeze with anxiety with every thrust, but it was obvious after a few moments of observation that the younger girl was practiced enough with this technique not to injure herself as she made her way down the courtyard steps, twin braids fluttering up and down all the while._

_He chuckled as she came to a stop at his side, the air currents rushing up between them, sliding over his shaved head. “Yes, Katone,” the boy smiled, reaching out a hand to smooth down the dark strands of hair that had come undone in her excitement. “We will both be joining you for dinner tonight. And breakfast tomorrow morning, if my memory serves me correctly.”_

_Brown eyes flew open wide in excitement and the young girl grabbed onto his hand, tugging on it with such fervor that he was sure the world would end if he didn’t get up off the bench he was currently sitting on and follow her inside that instant. “Come on!” Katone urged, running around behind him to push Aziraphale along by his waist. Even though she was a full foot shorter than him, the five year old was quite forceful for her age. He found himself stumbling forward, trying to catch his balance as the young airbender once again rushed forward, pulling him along by the hand. “We’ve gotta go grab a seat together before all the dumpings get eaten,_ again!”

The memory hit him like a gale-force wind, nearly knocking the airbender off his feet. He likely would have collapsed to the ground had the young woman’s hand not been wrapped so tightly in his own, the same way it had been all those years ago.

“Katone?” It was impossible. This was fate, playing some cruel trick on him. He was in a dream. Some kind of nightmare. It started off pleasant - they always did - but soon enough she, like all the rest of the air nomads he’d known, would be ripped from his grasp.

The much older Katone smiled. How had he not recognized her before? Yes, she was older now, by nearly twelve years since he’d seen her last. Her hair was shorter, face thinner, but her eyes were the same soft brown. Her smile, the same bright flash of joy. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Aziraphale.”

Tears filled his eyes and he struggled to keep them from overflowing. Not here, not in front of all these people. He would draw too much attention to the both of them. “I thought I’d never see any of you again.” Aziraphale managed to gasp out, squeezing her hand for extra reassurance. Needing to feel her here with him, to believe this wasn’t just some hallucination his longing heart had brought on himself.

While he had been able to hold his emotions back, she apparently could not. Fresh tears rolled down her rosy cheeks, glistening light starlight in the lamps that surrounded them. Softly, the hand within his squeezed back as her brown eyes shone with all the things she wanted to say, but couldn’t. Not here, while they were out in the open. “So did I. Until I saw you standing there, I feared I was the last.”

Aziraphale laughed, shaking his head and lowering his voice so that no one in the crowd would hear what he had to say next. He had no proof of the news he’d decided to share with her, but he knew that any such mumblings would have them captured if any Fire Nation ears happened to overhear. 

“No,” he assured her, voice intense despite the change in volume. “Never the last. Aang is still out there somewhere too, I’m sure of it.”

“The world still has its Avatar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a ton going on in this chapter, but I promise, this story picks up pretty quickly and doesn't slow down much once it does. Crowley's character gets introduced next and, honestly, I think he's the one I'm most excited to write in this story, so stay tuned!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your enthusiasm so far! Yesterday was such an exciting day for me and seeing that excitement reflected in all of your kudos and comments was absolutely wonderful. I've got a full weekend of writing up ahead of me, so expect to see at least one update, if not more, coming in the next few days!


	4. Azulon's Task

Serpentine amber eyes remained fixed on the smooth stone floor as Crowley entered the Fire Lord’s throne room. It wasn’t due to any semblance of fear or even a deep sense of respect for the elderly man sitting atop the raised dias at the opposite end of the room. No. The reason the man averted his gaze was the blazing fire that raged opposite him. The blazing inferno he was expected to approach, as no less than a dozen guards lined the pathway on either side of him. Standing still and resolute, waiting for him to put a toe out of line.

_ What a way to welcome a supposed guest. _

Not that Crowley had expected anything else from the Fire Lord. Sozin’s power was growing more and more each day, his reach extending to the western most shores of the Earth Kingdom. His worth to the Fire Nation was immeasurable, and with Prince Azulon still so young, it made sense that precautions were being taken.

Still, wasn’t Crowley the one who had been asked to come here? His presence requested by the Fire Lord himself? Surely that warranted some level of respect. But no. Why should the main palace of the Fire Nation, meeting with the Great Sozin himself, be any different? Why should Crowley go anywhere, really, and not be met with suspicion and mistrust?

He understood, he really did. The only reason Crowley was being summoned to stand before the Fire Lord was because of the rumors that had spread about him. The stories of a man with unusual characteristics. The eyes of a serpent, superior senses. Quick feet and an even quicker blade. A demon dressed up in the form of a man. A bloodthirsty predator who was as old as the world itself. Who roamed the earth alone, picking up jobs here and there that piqued his interest. That would challenge him and provide him some source of entertainment.

None of it was true, of course. As far as he knew, Crowley had lived a fairly normal childhood, and was most definitely not thousands of years old. He had parents who, while not the most affectionate, looked out for him until he’d been old enough to venture out on his own. And while, yes, the accusations of his proficiency with the blade were mostly accurate, he was no predator and certainly not a demon or monster or whatever else they called him. Crowley was a bounty hunter, just like the dozens of others that worked for the Fire Nation. Yes, he killed when he had to, but it was never out of cold blood or sport. He killed when the job dictated he must, and he killed no more than any other man out there, doing the same thing. Far less than most, if he were being honest.

They were at war, after all. What else did people expect?

“Fire Lord Sozin,” the young man greeted, moving his hands in the traditional bow expected of him. Left hand vertical, resting upon a clenched right fist. “It is an honor to have been summoned into your presence.” He kept his head bowed, eyes low, waiting for direction. Fire Lord Sozin would explain what his purpose was here, although Crowley already had an idea what that might be. 

Silence fell across the hall for a few moments that seemed to stretch out a lifetime. All that he could hear was the crackling of the inferno just a dozen or so feet away from him, drowning out all other sound. It was loud, and hot, and far more disorienting than Crowley tried to let on. Looking directly at it was impossible - his eyes were far too sensitive for such bright light. And the heat of it made the pictures around him fuzzy. He couldn’t sense much of anything around him with a fire this intense. Couldn’t tell if the guards behind him had moved from their post as he’d passed. Couldn’t see if the regent before him had moved to stand or was still sitting upon his throne behind the intense wall of fire.

In this room, Crowley was blinder than he’d remembered ever being in his lifetime. If it weren’t for the fact that he was currently standing before the Fire Lord, himself, he might have thought the entire chamber was set up just to put him on edge. To cripple him just enough that he was sure to stay in line.

It was almost as if they were afraid of him.

“Crawly,” the sovereign spoke, his voice resonating in the hall, causing the very flames before him to flicker, parting just enough so Crowley could have seen his face had he been looking. He was not, face still angled towards the floor, lips parted only slightly. Enough to allow himself the sense of smell, but not enough that he would be tempted to correct the man on his mispronunciation. Were he faced with anyone else, Crowley might point out the blunder. Standing before the Fire Lord, potentially the most powerful man on the planet, it was best to keep quiet about these things.

Crawly, Crowley - was there really that much a difference?

“Tales of your expertise have spread across our nation,” Sozin declared in a voice that almost seemed...indifferent. Like he was bored by the entire interaction. Crowley gritted his teeth and kept his head bowed low, breathing in the scent of smoke and leather, and something out of place among the otherwise barren room. It smelled sweet - fresh - like the cherry blossoms that bloomed all about the capital city in springtime.

“My son seems quite taken with the stories he has heard.”

Ah. Crowley licked his lips in an attempt to keep the dryness at bay. So this whole interaction was orchestrated by a ten year old boy. Perfect. Exactly what Crowley needed right now. Some errant quest Prince Azulon had concocted in his mind. No doubt some kind of daring - impossible mission that would prove Crowley to be the legend that they claimed him to be, or force him to die trying.

Imagine that. At twenty-one years old, he could very well be heading straight for his end at the request of a petulant, ten year old child, who just wanted to see the events in some of his nursery rhymes come to life.

A ten year old child who, apparently, was standing right behind him. Crowley lifted his head, keeping his eyes closed until his face was turned away from the blinding inferno and towards the young boy. Prince Azulon stepped out from the shadows at his father’s silent request, flanked on either side by two guards Crowley hadn’t been able to sense. If this meeting had occurred in any other location, he would have been able to feel their presence from several yards away. But the intense heat of the room obscured them, making their outlines fuzzy and allowing them to blend into the air around them, almost as if they were invisible.

“What tales have you heard?” Crowley asked the prince, maintaining a respectful tone in his voice despite the anxiety that was mounting inside his chest. He couldn’t very well say ‘no’ to the Fire Lord’s son. And at this point, the man really had no reason to, except this sinking feeling he couldn’t quite shake. Crowley knew exactly what kind of stories a ten year old boy would latch onto and he didn’t very much like the sorts of things he might be asked to do as a result.

“People say that you angered a spirit a thousand years ago that gave you demon eyes as a punishment,” the boy began. He stopped several feet in front of Crowley, hands clasped firmly in front of him. Standing properly, dressed head to toe like a miniature general - without all the decorations. His outfit displayed clean lines of burgundy, black and gold, with a single metallic flame pinned to the top of his head, signaling that he was the second most powerful person in the room. “They let you see through walls and navigate in the deepest darkness. You picked up your first blade at the age of two and haven’t put them down since. You are hundreds of years old and have defeated thousands of men stronger than you. Some people say you can even stop time!”

With each sentence, the boy became more and more animated. The brown eyes grew wider with excitement, his voice rising slightly in pitch. Corners of his mouth tugged upward in a smile that was hovering on the precipice of becoming a wide grin. Crowley imagined that, were he permitted to address the prince alone, he might be faced with an onslaught of questions rather than this attempt at regency.

“Those are quite the stories,” Crowley remarked as Azulon glanced up at him. The height difference on the two wasn’t all that different. He had maybe half a foot on the younger boy, a gap that likely wouldn’t exist for long. Azulon was tall for his age, with sleek black hair tied up in a perfect bun atop his head, not a strand out of place. He had smooth skin, an angular face, not unlike Crowley’s, and deep brown eyes that held both a child’s inquisitive nature and the composure of a future king.

“I want to know if they are true.”

Crowley smiled, flashing the boy a brief glimpse of his slightly sharper-than-average canine teeth. The boy’s brown eyes widened, but he held his composure, likely the result of many years of training. He watched as Azulon’s attention flickered from Crowley’s mouth up to the top of his head, where half of his flaming hair was held back in a tight bun, the other half remaining wild and free, tumbling down to his shoulders in waves that women across the four nations would kill for. The thickness and the pattern of it of course, not the color. Crowley’s crimson hair had always separated him from the other dark haired individuals in his community. He’d never run across anyone else in the Fire Nation with hair like his. 

Just as his serpentine eyes marked him as a demon, his flaming hair made Crowley stand out in a crowd. Only years of practice and training had allowed him to counteract the effects his stark appearance had on other people so he could better fade in with his surroundings.

What good was a bounty hunter that couldn’t remain hidden when the need arose?

Crowley wanted to shoot back some taunting reply. A banter that would make the prince laugh or relax his clearly forced posture. He wanted to see the boy grin unabashedly, instead of this hint at a smile that was continually tugging at his lips. The scorching heat against the side of his face and the back of his neck reminded the man that Fire Lord Sozin was still in the room, watching his every move.

So, instead, Crowley simply nodded his head. “Do you have a task in mind, Prince Azulon? For me to show you what I can do.”

Azulon frowned, pretending to think about the question for a while. Crowley simply stood and waited, his amber eyes never once leaving the boy’s face. He could feel the Fire Lord’s gaze on the back of his head, burning into him from behind the blinding orange wall. The sooner he got out of here, the better. Crowley shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing he had the comfortable weight of his dual dao blades resting against his back. They were currently being held by one of the guards at the entrance to the palace. Along with his dagger and several other weapons normally stored on his person.

What would it be that Azulon asked of him? Would the young prince ask him to infiltrate Ba Sing Se? Assassinate a noble? Retrieve a hidden artifact from an ancient ruin? Obviously, whatever task the boy had already decided upon would require wits, precision, and discretion. Otherwise, someone else would have been chosen for the task.

“I want,” the young prince began, bringing Crowley’s attention back to his face. There was an air of excitement hovering around them, and despite how the temperature of the room unnerved him, the man found that when he focused on this child and the glimmer of excitement in those brown eyes, he was much more at ease. His heart was racing now, not from anxiety, but in anticipation for what was to come next.

“I want you to do something no one else has been able to do,” Azulon explained, eagerness dripping from every syllable. He looked up at Crowley as if the man should recognize his task by those words alone, then plowed ahead before anything else could be said.

“I want you to find the Avatar.”

The Avatar. Sole master of all four elements. A boy born to the Air Nomads twenty-two years ago and who had been mysteriously missing since the war began. No one knew where he had gone or what had happened to him. They didn’t even know his name. Only that he was alive and he was out there - somewhere. It was a mystery left unsolved for ten years. No one yet had been able to crack it, though many had tried.

Crowley grinned. It was a sharp and flashing thing, filled with confidence and an eagerness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The impossible challenge. Find the Avatar. Bring him back to the Fire Nation. And live in wealth and prosperity all the rest of his miserable life. The money was all well and good, but it was the adventure Crowley sought. It was the trials he craved. And he had hit the jackpot with this one. It was a quest unlike anything he could have ever dreamed up for himself, but one he was more than happy to take on, so long as the Royal Family pledged to provide whatever resources he may need.

“Consider it done, My Prince.”

* * *

Two months. He’d been stuck in this godforsaken city for two whole months, with nothing to show for it. Crowley hadn’t expected finding the Avatar to be an easy task. If it were, the man would certainly have been found by now. Still, after nearly a season of searching, he had nothing to show for it. No name. No description. No information about the Avatar other than what was common knowledge. He was born an airbender. He was twenty-two years old. And he had tattoos. Vibrant, blue tattoos in the form of arrows that covered his legs, arms, back and head.

A lot of good that did him. Crowley scowled as he looked down from where he was perched upon his balcony. Watching all the people as they passed by, searching for any hint. Any sign of  _ something  _ he could use. 

When he’d taken Prince Azulon’s assignment, Crowley had known it would be impossible. He had hoped, however, that the hunt would keep him entertained for some measure of time. Figured there would be some hints or scraps of outlandish tales that would lead him to every corner of the globe in his search for the missing airbender.

He had gotten to travel to the air temples, at least. That had been more interesting than enlightening. They were abandoned now, just as they had been for the last ten years. Sozin had made sure of that, utilizing the comet’s power to mount his initial attack. Some said, the action was rash, unprovoked, and unnecessarily cruel. Some called Fire Lord Sozin a soulless monster, for harnessing such power to wipe out an entire people.

They didn’t know the truth of the situation. Didn’t understand what was at stake. Didn’t believe that Fire Lord Sozin was only doing what was necessary to protect his own people. The Air Nomads had paraded themselves as a peaceful, gentle people for generations, and the world had bought into their little game. Even Sozin and the previous Avatar, Roku, had once believed the Air Nation to be of little threat, until they learned of their deep hidden secrets. Until they learned of the secret army the Council of Elders was amassing. Until they learned of the children being trained to kill, the weapons being developed to use against the other nations. The destruction that was a certainty, had the Fire Lord not intervened.

Sozin had given them the chance to surrender peacefully. The Air Nomads had fought back. They had chosen to die when they could have lived. When one stopped to think about it, Sozin had only preemptively done what would have been done to his people. Yes, he had started a war. Yes, lives had been lost. But it could have been much worse. Sozin had struck in one mighty blow. He had eliminated most of the threat over the course of a single day. The war could have been over as quickly as it had started, had things gone differently. It was the  _ other _ nations that continued to drag it out. The  _ other _ nations who picked fight after fight instead of leaving well enough alone. Fire Lord Sozin and his armies had done the world a favor.

The other nations would come to realize that, eventually. Crowley was sure of it.

The trip to the air temples hadn’t given him much to go on other than an aura of unease and an overwhelming certainty that the Fire Nation’s actions had been necessary. On the outside, the temples each looked harmless, but Crowley had walked those halls. He had seen the sets of towering double doors, sealed tight with a mechanism that could only be unlocked with airbending. What secret technologies lay buried behind those doors? What methods of destruction had the Air Nomads been keeping hidden away?

Now, the world may never know.

Still, there was a chance the trips hadn’t been a complete waste of time. It was a slim chance at best, but as far as Crowley figured, he didn’t have much to lose at this point. Most of the valuable papers and artifacts had been removed from the temples and taken into Fire Nation custody, to ensure nothing dangerous fell into the wrong hands. Small trinkets and personal items had been left behind, deemed uninteresting and unimportant.

The Air Nomads didn’t have much, but amidst the extra change of robes, collection of wooden gliders, and handmade toys, Crowley had found an assortment of letters. The one that had interested him the most was one addressed to an airbending child from a boy named Bumi. Most of the letter was uninteresting at best and downright nonsense in certain sections, but there was a single line of the scratchy handwriting that had caught the man’s attention.  _ I can’t wait for the next time you come to Omashu. You and I can practice earthbending together and I can show you all the neat moves I’ve mastered. It’ll be a hoot. _

Why would an airbender need to practice earthbending? Or, what he should be asking was ‘how’? Crowley had pocketed the letter stewing on it for some time as he made his way north to the other temples. By the time he was finished with his search, the man had come to one conclusion.

The Avatar was alive. That much was known. If he had died during the comet, the cycle would have continued and the next Avatar would have been born a waterbender. Perhaps the Northern or Southern Water Tribes would have tried to keep the child’s identity secret, but Fire Lord Sozin seemed convinced this was not the case. The Fire Sages, whose job it was to identify the Avatar when he or she was born into the Fire Nation, seemed to believe this as well, as they had made no comments to the public that would suggest otherwise. Sozin believed the airbender had escaped the initial attack and was currently roaming the earth in disguise, biding his time, mastering all four elements until the right opportunity to strike presented itself. 

This was where Crowley came in. He had his weapons, his wits, and his keen senses, along with a single clue that hinted one of the Avatar’s close friends was here. Somewhere in Omashu.

Problem was, Omashu was a huge city. The second largest in the Earth Kingdom next to Ba Sing Se. Finding a young man named Bumi, with no surname or physical description or age was near impossible. Crowley had been in the city for two months and had yet to stumble upon anything that might lead him to his target and he was absolutely miserable. As far as he was concerned, Omashu was worse than the time he spent in the Si Wong Desert and The Divide combined.

He hated the crowds. He hated the noise of the clay bins as they travelled up and down the mail chutes, pushed along by gruff earthbenders who had no regard for time of day or civilians’ peace of mind. He hated the torches always lit along the streets shining in his upper floor window. He hated how the nights never seemed to grow quiet and how the stars seemed so very far away.

Sighing, Crowley stood up straight and stretched, lacing his fingers together and bringing them up over his head until his lower back popped in a way that made him groan in satisfaction. The sun had gone down a while ago, but people were still out and about. Celebrating some sort of...festival. He hadn’t been around long enough to know the intricate details of the holiday, but it was obvious it was dedicated to some sort of ridiculous notion of romance. Crowley scoffed at the thought. Men and women, traipsing about, arm in arm. Their gazes lingering on each other like nothing else in the world existed.

Slowly, the man let his eyes drift over the crowd, looking for anything out of place. Anyone who looked suspicious, like they were hiding something. Almost all of the airbenders had died in the first battle of this war, but some of them had managed to flee and make their way into the other nations. Out of all the people who may know more information about his target, one of them would be invaluable to Crowley’s search. If he could locate an airbender, in the midst of all this chaos, perhaps he could finally make some progress.

But how was he supposed to find an airbender in the midst of all this? It wasn’t as if they were known for showing themselves these days. Ten years after the comet and almost all of the ones who had initially run away had gone into hiding. Finding an airbender hiding in Omashu was likely to be even more difficult than finding the one man living here named ‘Bumi’. 

“You might be persuaded to ask if some pretty girl had her sights set on you.”

A voice drifted up towards him from somewhere close by and Crowley lowered his arms to his side, resisting the temptation to lean over the wooden railed balcony and look below. This was a nobody - likely some young Earth Kingdom man trying to convince his buddy to say ‘hello’ to one of the dozens of women walking around underneath the decorations and lamplight, listening to the enchanting music as it drifted down the streets. Hardly worth Crowley’s time, but it was far too early to turn in for the night, so he turned his head and scanned the crowds again, looking for a miracle. A glimpse of a blue tattoo. A puff of wind where it shouldn’t be. Some sort of sign that would lead him to his next course of action.

“Seems like a pretty unlikely scenario, Bumi. Best not to speculate.”

_ That works. _ Crowley froze in place, ears straining, senses reaching out to feel where the two men were. They were hard to make out mixed in with the dozens of other warm bodies by his building, but the man knew they had to be close if he could hear their conversation. He spotted them almost instantly, feeling their presence below him at the edge of the plaza rather than seeing their actual forms. They were obscured by the wooden structure beneath his feet, but Crowley still knew they were there. Two men, both wearing light fabric covering almost all of their exposed skin. One of the men, the one who had just spoken, was slightly heavier set. Shorter too, and had his sleeves rolled completely down, muting the temperature of his body ever so slightly, despite the heat of the summer evening.

The other man, this one who was apparently named Bumi, had his sleeves already rolled up. He was gesturing now, pushing his companion forward toward something Crowley was not aware of. Quickly, he lifted his eyes across the way and found a young woman standing alone. From this distance, he couldn’t see her face clearly enough to identify her again, but he did take note of her shoulder length brown hair and the blue and gold patterned dress she wore, in case he needed to locate her later in the crowd.

It wasn’t a very likely scenario, but Crowley had learned over the years it never hurt to be prepared.

Suddenly, the man who wasn’t named Bumi stepped out from under where Crowley was positioned and walked forward with hesitant purpose, as if he would much rather be thousands of miles away at this very moment. His back was turned to Crowley, but the man stilled anyway, watching with wide amber eyes as those thick blonde curls bounced their way across the plaza toward the young woman’s side.

A frown made its way onto Crowley’s face. This man’s clothes seemed out of place. They were nice, a clean, crisp navy trouser and robes trimmed in silver. Much fancier than he’d expected anyone so reluctant to participate in the evening’s festivities would wear. The sleeves were long, collar reaching up his neck and brushing against the base of his hair. All standard, from what the man had gathered. No, the strange bit was the pair of gloves he wore around his hands. Not fine silk gloves, like royalty and some of the nobles might wear at special banquets, nor riding gloves that might be found with owners of ostrich horses or a komodo rhino. These were plain, brown gloves, with holes cut out of them where each finger poked through. Fingers that hovered near his pockets, looking like they were about to bury themselves deep in his robes and never come out.

What use would he have for gloves like that? If the man was afraid of dirtying himself, why have half the glove cut off? They didn’t match with the rest of his outfit, provided no utility that Crowley could see. It was far too warm outside for thermal protection. So why the gloves?

Crowley was so fixated on that one detail that he almost missed the other obvious one glaring him right in the face. One that he only happened to notice when the man in question turned his head to look around after he’d reached the girl’s side. As if he was expecting trouble.

That man was wearing a headband.

A headband, and gloves. Ones that didn’t quite match his finer outfit. Ones that looked very out of place for someone who had spent the past two months looking for a needle in a haystack.

Crowley’s heart began to beat faster as he forced himself to remain calm. He might have just stumbled upon not one needle. Not two, but  _ three _ over the course of a single night. A man with strange attire that covered most of his body, a woman who looked overwhelmingly happy to see him, and a third man still standing beneath him, who went by the name ‘Bumi’.

What were the chances he could be this lucky? Was it possible his link to finding the Avatar was standing here in front of him, at the edge of a plaza in the center of Omashu, on display for the entire world to see? If only they would take the time to look?

There was only one way to find out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all who have been commenting so far :) Like I mentioned before, I am very excited about Crowley's character in this story. I've done a lot of research into the Avatar world and think I found a role for him that fits quite nicely. It will be a while before you get the full story, but rest assured, all will be revealed in time.


	5. Writing on the Wall

“Aziraphale!” 

Katone’s voice rang out through the house, sending a spasm of shock down Aziraphale’s spine. Before his mind could catch up, the airbender’s heart was in his throat, wind blasting out from underneath him, launching him upward into a standing position so he could hurriedly make his way towards the front door. What had happened? Was she hurt? Or in some kind of trouble? Had she been found out? He’d only just found her again - only had her back in his life for less than a week. This couldn’t be the end. They’d been careful.  _ So _ very careful. So what in the world could she be shouting about?

“What’s wrong?” his quaking voice asked as he rapidly made his way down the hall, poised and ready to strike. Shortly after the comet had struck, Aziraphale had vowed never to use his airbending again. After all he had lived through, he understood the risks and knew that if he wanted some semblance of a chance at a life of peace, he needed to remain hidden. There had been a few slip ups over the years with events he couldn’t control, but overall, Aziraphale had blended into the Earth Kingdom as best he could. He had faded into obscurity. While most of his days were filled with a gnawing fear, the airbender still lived a peaceful life.

Not today. Today, everything was different. Today, he would tear down the buildings at least a block in all directions and bury the Fire Nation in rubble if they so much as laid a hand on Katone. He would do whatever it took to keep that girl safe.

She was all he had left of his home, after all.

It was only after her face came into view that Aziraphale realized the emotion behind her words was that of excitement, not of panic or fear. He breathed a sigh of relief, hands immediately coming to his side as she beckoned him over to the table at the far side of the room. There was a certain light in her brown eyes, a wide grin etching itself into her cheeks as she bounced excitedly on the toes of her feet, waiting for him to come closer.

_ Don’t scare me like that, _ he wanted to chastise, but Aziraphale remained silent. Who was he to dictate how she lived her life? He was not her father, nor her brother or even any kind of mentor of sorts, although she had tried in earnest these last few days to make him so. Aziraphale felt a twinge of guilt worm its way into his heart as he looked down at the dark-haired girl, her wide brown eyes gazing at him imploringly, slender finger pointing to a single page in her blue and silver bound notebook. All she wanted was to learn more about her heritage. About her people -  _ their _ people. And Aziraphale turned her down each time she asked. Not because he didn’t want to teach her. He wanted nothing more. But he refused to put her life at risk, anymore than it already was. They were Earth Kingdom citizens now. And Earth Kingdom citizens they would stay. 

“Look what I found!” she exclaimed, still pointing furiously at the page settled on the table between them. Aziraphale sighed, trying desperately not to let her see how alarmed he had just become. He should have known nothing would have been wrong. Katone had survived these past ten years just as he had. She knew the danger they were up against. She would be careful when out and about. Katone was smart enough not to use her airbending, and unlike him, she didn’t have the visible tattoos to desperately try and hide. She’d been only eight years old when the comet had struck - far too young to receive the markings of airbending mastery. 

“A bunch of markings?” Aziraphale asked, hardly impressed. His eyes lingered across the page for a moment, trying to decipher her scrawled handwriting along with the tiny images she had sketched on the parchment. They weren’t Earth Kingdom symbols, that much was obvious. They were far too graceful and elegant for that, but it wasn’t a script he was familiar with. If anything, Aziraphale would have guessed it was some sort of child’s drawing, if not for the fact that Katone claimed she found them. Found them where? What did that mean? “I hardly see how - “

He stopped suddenly, blue eyes going slightly wider as they fell upon one of the many markings Katone had jotted down. The airbender felt her still beside him and he realized he had about half a second to react appropriately before she made the connection that he  _ knew _ what these marks meant and started bombarding him with questions.

Despite his best efforts to force the breath back out of his lungs, Katone was quick on the uptake. Just as he was breathing the stilled air from his chest back out, he heard her sharp intake of breath beside him. Aziraphale forced himself to keep his eyes on the parchment, studying the writing, trying to look deep in thought as she launched into her interrogation.

“What are these?” The words spilled from her lips almost faster than Aziraphale could comprehend them, but in her eagerness, Katone showed no signs of slowing down. “They’re Air Nomad markings aren’t they? I don’t know what they mean, but I passed by it painted on the side of a building near the plaza and one of them looked familiar. So I just  _ had  _ to jot it all down and bring it to you because I remember you being such a bookworm when we were younger and I just knew that if anyone would know what they meant, you would and you  _ do  _ and what do they mean, Aziraphale? You have to tell me!”

The symbol in question that had caused his heart to stutter in his chest when he’d first laid eyes on it and had prompted Katone to pull out her sketchbook and recreate the strange markings was that of a small glider. In all honesty, it hardly looked like a glider at all. Just a simple straight line with two overlaid triangles on either end, giving it the semblance of wings. Still, Aziraphale had recognized it almost instantly, and now that his eyes were busy scanning the page, he realized he recognized most of the other symbols as well. 

He had a choice to make. And by the overeager look he glimpsed as Aziraphale’s eyes darted down to Katone’s face, he had to make it quickly. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” the airbender responded, biting the inside of his lip as his vision danced over the markings. It wasn’t a complete lie. Aziraphale  _ didn’t _ know what these runes said. Not yet. Not off the top of his head. Given the time, he could possibly remember enough to figure it out. This was not the common script he’d learned growing up, but the ancient writings of their ancestors. It would take some effort to translate, and Aziraphale hesitated, unsure if he wanted to reveal he could solve this puzzle for her.

There was a glaring, obvious problem that Katone was overlooking. They had absolutely no idea where this script had come from. The younger woman claimed she found it scrawled on the side of a building, like some kind of graffiti. But why? Who had left it? And what were they ultimately trying to say?

The only way to find out was for Aziraphale to translate the message. If he did, what would come of it? Did he want to know, or was the risk of being found out too great? Part of him - a big part - thought it might be, and that was enough to give him pause.

“You two certainly look like you’re up to no good.”

Both airbenders turned their heads at the sound of Bumi’s voice. Aziraphale’s heart leapt into his chest once more, but not nearly as violently as it had when Katone had entered the small house they shared. 

“Aziraphale is going to decode a secret message,” Katone revealed before Aziraphale could say another word. He watched as Bumi’s eyes went wide, reflecting the younger girl’s excitement as the earthbender lumbered over to the table where they stood. With more familiarity than he had the right to possess, given the short time Katone had been in their lives, Bumi nestled his way between them, lifting both arms to drape comfortably over each of their shoulders. Without a word, he leaned in to peer at the paper laying wide open in front of them. Aziraphale winced at the sudden pressure against his neck, but noticed how Katone beamed up at the earthbender, leaning in and wrapping her arms around Bumi in an excited hug as she continued to fill him in on the situation.

“It’s some kind of secret message written in a bunch of old runes that the monks used to use centuries ago.”

“This writing goes further back than that,” Aziraphale clarified, drawing both of their attention. “These runes are from before we split and settled into the four temples. From the time we truly were nomads.”

“Really?” Katone gasped and Aziraphale forced himself to look away from the hope shining in her eyes and back to the page. Despite the overwhelming feeling welling up inside him that told him to rip this page up and forget about it - that no good could come of this - the scholar inside him was taking over. Aziraphale could already feel the cogs in his mind coming to life as his eyes danced across the page, reforming the dots and swirls and dashes into something he could understand. “That’s amazing.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale’s voice sounded so distant in his ears. His heart was pounding in his chest as the message finally started to take form in his mind. A light frown appeared on his face, and Aziraphale traced back through the runes again. This message was not a series of letters, as he’d originally expected, but a string of numbers. Numbers that, as far as he could tell, made no sense whatsoever.

“So?” Bumi’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts and brought Aziraphale back to the present moment. He blinked, fixing his gaze upon his friend’s face as the young man stared back. For the first time, Aziraphale was able to fully take in what Bumi was wearing. A pale yellow shirt cut off at the shoulders and baggy grey trousers that cinched around his calves. His feet were bare, which was typically a sign he had just come home from his teaching job at the dojo across town. “What does it say?”

“Nothing,” Aziraphale responded, chancing a glance over past Bumi and toward Katone's face. She met his gaze, the spark of excitement that had once hovered there slowly starting to fade as a frown marred her soft face. Aziraphale felt a twinge of disappointment enter his heart. He hated seeing this girl upset. They had been reacquainted for less than a week and she had already become a huge part of his life. A part that Aziraphale found himself becoming rapidly attached to. He saw Katone as a younger sister. One that he sought to make smile with nearly everything he did. With the stories he told at night before they settled down to sleep. With the time they spent together cooking dinner or playing Pai Sho. She had left the comfort of her previous home without a second thought to join him and Bumi and Aziraphale’s heart had rejoiced at the thought of having her so close. And here he was, letting her down like he had, all those years ago. 

Biting the inside of his lip, Aziraphale made a decision. He sighed, ignoring the knot that was currently forming in the pit of his stomach, and reached for a nearby pen. Katone’s gasp of excitement tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tried to hold back a smile.

“I told you,” Aziraphale explained, leaning forward out from under Bumi’s arm, still perched along his shoulders. He heard it fall quietly to the earthbender’s side, the other arm remaining wrapped around Katone’s smaller form. “It doesn’t  _ say _ anything. It’s just a bunch of numbers.”

Slowly, double checking his translation as he went, Aziraphale began to write out the message. It was a series of numbers, grouped together in pairs. There were eight of them total and seemed to have no correlation to each other. Aziraphale could identify no pattern or meaning behind any of them, even once they’d all been written out.

“What about that one?” Katone asked, reaching out to rest her finger against the small glider that had caught both of their attention originally. Aziraphale had left the space below it blank. “What does it mean?”

He paused, the gears in his mind running in overdrive trying to figure out what this message could possibly mean. “That’s a greeting,” Aziraphale explained to the other two as he struggled to find the right words to explain it. “Sort of like a warm ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’. Well wishes and the like.” When Katone and Bumi said nothing in response, Aziraphale tried again. “Loosely translated, it says something to the effect of ‘May the winds carry you to where you can find happiness.”

“Is that what this is?” Bumi asked, his voice much softer than Aziraphale expected it to be. He watched as the earthbender finally lowered his other arm and took a step closer to the table, reaching out to take the notebook in hand. “Some kind of directions to happiness.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I doubt it,” he replied, still unsure what the message could mean, if it was a message at all. It had to be, hadn’t it? Those runes were thousands of years old. Even before the comet had struck, the names of people alive in the world who understood them could be fit on a single piece of parchment. Now, it was quite possible he was the only one.  _ Except _ . Someone else had obviously written this. It was a message meant for other airbenders, if they were out there. So what did it say? What did it  _ mean _ ?

And more importantly, who sent it?

“Hang on.” There was a change in Bumi’s voice, one that sent an unintentional shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. Had Bumi realized something he had not? If so, how? What was it that Aziraphale was missing? What could this random collection of numbers possibly mean?

“You wrote them in pairs,” he observed, pointing to the freshly inked markings below each line. “Are you sure that’s right?”

Aziraphale nodded, finding his throat had closed up, preventing him from making any further sound. His heart was racing in his chest, hands trembling at his side as Bumi wordlessly placed the notebook down on the table and walked across the room to the bookshelf up against the far wall. From it, he pulled out a single thin back book and returned it to them, leafing through the worn pages until he came across a single, very detailed map of the Earth Kingdom.

“Coordinates,” Katone breathed as both airbenders watched their friend’s finger slowly slide across the page, tracing the thin lines until it reached a single, solitary spot. A location about half a day’s journey north of Omashu, in the forests just south of Gaipan. “It’s a list of coordinates, oh  _ Aziraphale. _ ”

The way she said his name, so full of longing and joy, it nearly reduced him to tears. This couldn’t be true, and  _ yet _ , here they were. He and Katone had found each other against all odds. Who was he to say that it was impossible for another airbender to have made it this far? They had done it. Surely that meant some of the others could still be alive. After all this time.

“Well,” Bumi announced amidst the stunned silence that had overtaken the entire house. “It looks like we’re going on an adventure.”

Aziraphale’s heart seized in his chest. “No.” The words escaped his lips before he’d even had the predisposition to think them through. Katone’s face fell, her brown eyes swimming with tears that looked about ready to overflow. Whether from the joy of finding more of their family or the sorrow of losing them in the first place, or at her frustration in dealing with him, the man had no idea. “We can’t just rush into this.”

He turned to face Katone, willing her to understand his hesitation. It wasn’t that Azirapahle didn’t want to find the other airbenders, if they were out there. Finding them would bring him nothing but joy. But he had worries. Concerns. Huge, giant fears that hovered around him all the time, threatening to tear him to pieces. If they did this, if they left Omashu and went to this forest, what would they find? What if they got it wrong? What if there was nothing there? What if they did find another airbender and then the Fire Nation found them? The more of their community they rebuilt, the larger a target they became. Aziraphale was already risking so much by keeping Katone close by. What if by adding just one other person to their little family, they lost everything?

It was too much of a risk. Aziraphale opened his mouth to explain to Katone just why venturing out away from Omashu was such a terrible idea. And then he caught her gaze and the way she looked at him with such  _ hope  _ and Aziraphale found it impossible to deny her anything.

“We can’t just rush into this,” he reiterated, still so sure of the potential dangers they might face while venturing away from the city and out into the open. “Besides, if we left now it would be after nightfall by the time we got there. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

Katone launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking the both of them over with her enthusiasm. Aziraphale smiled, and held onto her tightly, trying to ignore the way his stomach wouldn’t quite settle properly. He looked up at Bumi, who gave him a knowing nod and a soft smile as his eyes shifted down toward the girl who had so quickly made a place for herself in their small family. 

“First thing in the morning,” Bumi echoed, flashing Aziraphale a wide grin. “Adventure awaits, for all three of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, the updates are going to be a bit light this week. I work full time and some of that work includes telework right now, which is fine, but some days require me to go into the lab, and those days are mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting right now with all the extra precautions we have to take. I'm going in 2 days this week and I can promise you now, very little writing is going to get done while I'm working away from home.
> 
> Best guess is the next chapter will be up sometime on Thursday. Thank you so much for the comments <3 I'm loving seeing what you all think of this story and how you think things might go. See you again soon <3


	6. Calling in Backup

Finding backup for a mission was always a tossup in Crowley’s opinion. It was a balance of weighing the need for extra firepower versus the cut of the reward he would have to give up to ensure that help would come through as intended. On most jobs, the man preferred to go it alone if he thought he could manage the load, but sometimes, when planning out his next several moves, it became glaringly obvious that no matter his prowess with fire or blades, he would not succeed alone.

Catching the Avatar was a one-man job, in his opinion. In a one on one fight, with the element of surprise on his side, Crowley was more than capable. Catching the Avatar when he was being accompanied by another airbender and an earthbender would require a few extra hands if he hoped to impress both Prince Azulon and Fire Lord Sozin.

Luckily for Crowley, he knew just the two people to ask. 

“Well,” a familiar voice drawled from the opposite side of the tavern as Crowley strode in. “Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence, Dagon.”

Crowley grinned as he took in the small figure before him. Shaggy black hair framing a pair of cool grey eyes and pale face covered with the lightest touch of dirt and grime. He wondered, briefly, as he sauntered across the room to sit down at the table across from them, if Bealz was just coming off a job or had purposefully made themselves look a bit messier than was normally considered acceptable. Everytime he ran across them, they always seemed to appear a bit less than presentable.

“Thought you were off on some important mission,” Dagon teased, her low voice practically getting lost in the hum of conversations filling the room. “Give up already?”

Sneering at his companions, Crowley pulled out the chair in front of them, spun it around, and took a seat, his long legs framing either side, chest flush up against the wooden back. “Quite the opposite,” the man announced, reaching forward so the edge of his fingers could grasp at the bowl of dried nuts and berries that had been placed in the center of the table. “In fact, I’ve already got a potential target. Just need a few extra hands reeling him in.”

A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Bealz’ lips. “What? You’re not enough of a badass to grab him yourself? What makes this guy so special?”

Amber eyes darted around the room as Crowley leaned in closer. His sudden change in demeanor must have sparked some interest in the duo, because both Dagon and Bealz mirrored his action, the latter even going as far as lowering their feet from the chair beside Crowley so they could sit at full attention, rather than casually lean back as they had been doing when Crowley had arrived.

“There’s a chance he might be the Avatar.”

Almost completely in sync with each other, the pair laughed. Dagon’s was loud and rambunctious, complete with a tossed back head, brown eyes squeezed shut, and a hand slapping down hard against the wooden table. Bealz was much quieter about it, but Crowley could tell by the glint in their eyes and the flash of their teeth that they, too, found this bit of information to be quite amusing.

“Seriously, Crowley?” Bealz asked, reaching forward to grab ahold of their drink. “The Avatar? Who in their right mind would put you on a fool’s errand like that?”

“Someone who probably wanted to waste his time,” Dagon muttered. Her hand fell back to the table, long, spindly fingers dancing across the surface until they reached the edge of the wooden bowl that sat between them. With narrowed eyes fixed straight at Crowley, she dragged the bowl back with a sharp scrape against the table, stuffing a large amount of the berries into her mouth for good measure. 

“Quite possible,” Crowley announced, deciding to humor them for a moment. Let them think he was some kind of fool for agreeing to this job. And watch their faces completely transform once they learned who had tasked him. “Although, I’ll admit that Prince Azulon seemed rather enthusiastic about the possibility I might find him.”

Crowley’s eyes were fixed on Bealz’ face as he said this. His acquaintance was often so reserved that it was rare to get any sort of reaction out of them. Part of Crowley hoped this would be enough, but it would seem his efforts were in vain. Their face remained motionless, grey eyes staring at the dirt beneath their fingernails in an almost bored sort of way. Meanwhile, Dagon was practically choking on the food she had just inhaled, brown eyes flying wide as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Pull yourself together,” Bealz muttered, reaching their free hand up to whack Dagon across the back. “Surely you had to suspect someone higher up on the food chain than us would have given him this assignment.” Grey eyes rose to meet amber ones and Bealz winked, causing Crowley to grin in anticipation. “Crowley may do some crazy things sometimes, but he’s not an idiot.”

Dagon mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like she was disagreeing with Bealz’ earlier statement, but Crowley paid her no mind. He’d worked with this duo several times in the past, and while Dagon could come across as rude and a bit stuck-up, she was one of the best firebenders he’d ever seen. Bealz too. He had no doubt that with the two of them by his side, capturing this potential Avatar would be one of the easiest missions he’d ever had to complete.

“So, what’s the deal?” Dagon asked once she had composed herself enough to speak again. “We split the money three ways, of course. How much are we talking here?”

A smirk made its way onto Crowley’s face. “Enough. More than the last two jobs I had you assist on combined.”

Dagon’s eyes lit up momentarily, then furrowed into a scowl. “You’re not going to have us doing any of the  _ legwork _ are you?” She snorted, reaching for another fistful of fruit, picking out the nuts and leaving them behind. “You know how much I hate tracking people down. Would rather claw my own eyes out - and that’s with normal folks, who haven’t been missing for the past decade. Bealz says you’re not an idiot, but I don’t see how you expect to find him when the rest of Sozin’s army can’t.”

“Hang on,” Bealz interjected, their voice hovering in the air with a hint of suspicion. “Didn’t you say you had a target already?”

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, the man propped his head up on one palm and stared pointedly at Dagon. “You’re right Bealz,” he taunted, relishing the look of utter fury marring Dagon’s face. “I  _ did _ say I found someone already, didn’t I?”

Immediately, Crowley found himself staring at a pair of slender fingers, pointing at the space right between his eyes. He froze, allowing his serpentine gaze to drift up and linger on Dagon’s face. “You should really remember to mind your tone, Crowley. Or have you forgotten that I can stop that demonic little heart of yours with a single spark?”

A hand came to rest upon Dagon’s wrist, slowly lowering it back down onto the table. Crowley swallowed thickly, trying not to appear as rattled as he currently felt. True, the chances that Dagon would actually try to kill him in the middle of a Fire Nation village surrounded by civilians was slim. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely capable of doing such a thing. And it certainly didn’t mean she would go out of her way to save his neck should the occasion arise. Especially if the Avatar had already been neutralized. 

“Play nicely, you two,” Bealz chastised in their familiar, calm tone. “We still need each other, remember?” They fixed their grey eyes on Crowley. “You obviously need us to get the job done or you wouldn’t be here, and we still need him to tell us who we’re looking for and to collect the reward. So no stopping anyone’s heart or cutting off anyone’s head. Not on my watch.”

Both Dagon and Crowley settled into their seats, shooting each other one last look before Crowley took it upon himself to fill them in on what he’d found.

“There’s a young earthbender in Omashu,” he began, keeping his voice low in case any of the other rabble around tried to listen in. “I did a little digging and found evidence to suggest that the Avatar has an old friend living in the city. I’ve been surveying the place for the last two months and just the other day, I overheard that same man talking to a friend of his. Turns out, this  _ friend _ has airbender tattoos.”

He expected to hear some sort of protest. Some claim that what he saw was impossible. That there wouldn’t be an airbender walking around the city of Omashu, and that even if there was, the chance of him being the Avatar was next to none, but the words never came. Instead, both Bealz and Dagon leaned forward in their chairs, eyes wide, drinks and snacks completely forgotten.

“You saw them?” Bealz asked, voice almost too low to hear above the noise. “The tattoos. You saw that he had them?”

Crowley’s hesitation that next moment was just enough for his companions to realize the truth behind his words - or, rather, the truth behind his silence. Dagon huffed a great sigh, leaning back into her chair, one knee raised as she pulled the wooden bowl the remaining way across the table and into her lap. Bealz simply looked disappointed, like Crowley had offered them up the sweetest of treats and then yanked it away just as they were about to take that first savory bite.

“He has them,” Crowley insisted, understanding why they might doubt him, but feeling frustrated all the same. Who were they to judge the situation? He was the one who had seen it, not them.  _ He  _ knew that this man, while he may not be the Avatar, was most definitely an airbender. There was no question in his mind. 

All he had to do was convince Bealz and Dagon of the same fact.

“Look,” the man stated, holding out his fingers one by one for emphasis. “No one in their right mind wears long sleeves, gloves, and a headband in summertime. Not unless they are trying to hide a very obvious set of tattoos all over their body. He’s an airbender. I’d bet my share of the reward on it.”

This seemed to get both their attention. And why wouldn’t it? Crowley had yet to name his price and he knew that if he could convince them this was the real deal, they would not hesitate to lend a hand. With the Fire Lord himself offering up the reward, Dagon and Bealz didn’t have to ask for a number. They knew if they pulled this off, they’d be set for life. 

For a moment, no one spoke. Crowley leaned back in his chair and took a glance around the room. Amber eyes flickered from person to person, taking in the collection of loud, boisterous men laughing and joking around at the table by the front of the room. The female soldiers who had obviously just gotten done with their shift and were unwinding by tossing darts into the nearest wall. It was a lively gathering place, filled with drinks, music, and loud conversations that reminded him of the city back home. Crowley hadn’t been there in nearly five years. Not since his mother had passed away and he’d left for good. And yet, the moment he’d stepped inside this building in a small town on the outskirts of the Fire Nation, he’d felt more at home than all the time he’d spent in the Earth Kingdom combined. 

“You said there’s two of them?” Bealz finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “This airbender who  _ might _ be the Avatar and another man about his age that’s an earthbender?”

Crowley nodded his head. This was good. If Bealz was asking questions, it meant they were interested. They were entertaining the idea of helping him, and if Crowley could get Bealz to sign on, Dagon would inevitably follow. In all the years he’d known this pair, they never did anything apart. Not when it came to jobs, at any rate, and this was likely the biggest job either one of them had ever been asked to do.

“There’s actually three,” he amended a moment later. “The third one is a girl. A bit younger than the other two. I don’t know for sure if she’s a bender or not.” Crowley paused, trying to remember as many details as he could. “The airbender seemed to recognize her. It’s possible she’s another airbender, but she doesn’t have any tattoos.”

Bealz and Dagon exchanged a look, one that Crowley didn’t quite understand. Were they concerned about taking on two airbenders at once? If the girl was one, she can’t have been extremely gifted in it. From what he knew about their culture, airbenders received their tattoos as a sign of power. Only those who had mastered the element displayed such markings. This girl was hardly a threat, so why had the revelation of her potential heritage caused such a reaction between his companions?

“So,” Dagon began, interrupting his thoughts before Crowley could put words to them. “Just so we’re clear, you want the two of us to come along and help keep those other two out of your way while you neutralize the guy with the tattoos. And you’ll give us a third of the reward money each, to be a distraction.”

Dagon’s brown eyes turned toward Crowley and he felt his stomach twist unpleasantly for a moment before hurriedly burying the feeling deep down inside himself. He was being absolutely ridiculous. There was no way he was letting  _ Dagon _ , of all people, unsettle him like this. Crowley had faced down benders twice his size and strength and come out on top. He wasn’t about to let this...annoying human being rile him up any further.

“If we’re being completely clear,” he retorted, serpentine eyes narrowing slightly as the words spilled from his lips, “I am really only concerned about the earthbender. Like I said, he’s a childhood friend of the Avatar. The last thing I want to do is underestimate him. I’m sure the girl will be easy enough to manage.”

“Still,” Bealz mentioned, eyes flickering down to study their hand once more, flexing the fine muscles back and forth as they turned it over in front of them. “If, as you say, this airbender knows her, and he  _ is  _ the Avatar, then logic dictates we shouldn’t underestimate her either.”

Amber eyes narrowed in annoyance. Leave it to Bealz to find the hole in his logic and rip it open at the seams. 

“Leave the girl to us,” Dagon assured. “And the earthbender too.” She looked over at Bealz with an almost delighted grin on her face. “If you can handle this so-called Avatar, we can take care of the rest.”

Crowley shrugged. It was good enough for him. He’d traveled a day and a half to get here, with the intention of laying out a very well thought out plan that was sure to draw the pair in and they’d agreed to help with barely any details at all. One less thing for him to worry about, he supposed. As long as, at the end of the day, he got his prize, who was he to complain on how the task was accomplished.

“Fine,” the firebender murmured, crossing his arms across his chest as he eyed the bowl of snacks still perched in Dagon’s lap. There was no chance in Hell he was going to get his hands on them now, but that didn’t stop the man from wanting. “Have it your way. Any other questions?”

Bealz smiled, leaning forward to place their elbow on the table, fingers gripping the edge of the mug of ale still situated in front of them. “I’m assuming you have a plan all figured out for how we’re going to lure them out of hiding? Neither one of us really fancy spending more time in that kingdom of backwards-thinkers than absolutely necessary.”

A sly grin began to creep onto Crowley’s face as the next steps to his plan began to flash through his mind. Oh, he had a plan alright. One that was absolutely sure to lure any airbenders in Omashu out into the light. He’d spent a lot of time at the air temples after receiving this assignment and had picked up on a bit more than a simple slip of paper addressed to the Avatar. Now that he had Bealz and Dagon on his side, he could return to Omashu and put the next piece into motion. 

“Come now,” the man asked, extending his arms to either side as he pushed back against the leg of the table with one foot, his chair teetering on the edge, mere moments away from toppling over backwards. “Do you even have to ask?”

By the looks on their faces, Crowley suspected that no - they didn’t need to ask at all. Bealz and Dagon knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had a plan to get them exactly what they wanted, and it was going to be glorious.

Just wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday everyone! I hope your week is going well. I've been a bit busy at work, but after I'm done with the night shift tonight, my weekend begins. I'm hoping to get a lot of writing done this weekend so we can keep this story moving. As you can clearly see, things are happening... ;)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your encouragement in this story so far. I cannot express to you how much your words mean to me. Reading your comments is the best part about my day <3
> 
> Next update should be around the Saturday timeframe. See you all then!! :)


	7. The Abandoned Cottage

This whole trip had been a colossal mistake. Aziraphale was sure of it. With each step they took away from Omashu, he felt a growing sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Trees in full boom hovered all around them, but Aziraphale could not stop and appreciate the lush foliage. All he saw when he looked up at the branches looming on either side of the well-worn path were shadows and pockets of darkness. Places where a Fire Nation soldier could be secretly tucked away. Watching them, waiting for them. Prepared to strike at any moment. 

Katone held no such reservations. Katone looked happier than Aziraphale had ever seen her as she skipped down the path a dozen or so feet in front of them, humming a soft tune as she went. He wished she would stay a bit closer. Wished she would realize the potential dangers this trip could bring. But Katone, as always, was bright-eyed and hopeful, and Bumi, ever the thrill-seeker, only served to encourage her. 

“Who do you think it will be?” the earthbender asked, biting hard into an apple that was meant to be a part of their lunch. “I bet it’ll be one of your monk friends. Only someone as stuffy as Az here would know to leave a coded message made from ancient airbender runes.”

He meant it as a joke. Of course Bumi meant it as a joke, but the moment those words escaped his friend’s lips, Aziraphale’s heart seized in his chest. Was Bumi right? Were the temple monks the only ones who still knew the old language, or had it somehow been discovered by someone else? Would someone from the Fire Nation have been able to make such a translation? Surely not. And yet, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was completely, utterly, terribly wrong.

As if he could sense his friend’s distress, Bumi’s purposeful gait slowed to match Aziraphale’s. Without a word, he fell in line beside the airbender, munching along on the apple in hand as both men turned their eyes toward Katone. Her feet practically floated above the packed dirt below them, the undersides of her shoes scraping against the surface as she propelled herself forward. If he didn’t know better, Aziraphale would have accused her of airbending, but Katone was smarter than that. She had to have been, to have made it this far.

“Az.”

Bumi’s voice so close to him was enough to snap Aziraphale out of his current worrying for the time being. His blue eyes traveled up to his friend’s face, taking in the soft, knowing grin and the tangle of red hair that never seemed to lay flat, no matter what Bumi attempted to do with it. 

“It’s gonna be just fine,” Bumi eased, offering up a smile as he wiped a dribble of juice with the back of his hand. “You can’t live your life in fear forever. We’re miles deep in Earth Kingdom territory right now. Nothing is going to happen.”

His words were kind and well-intentioned, but that didn’t mean they made Aziraphale feel any better about the situation. Those words couldn’t undo the knot that had wound itself tight in the airbender’s chest, couldn’t slow the pounding of his heart or still the trembling in his arms. Aziraphale would only feel back to normal once the three of them were safely back in their small house in Omashu.

Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale echoed just as much. “I’ll feel much better when the three of us are back home.”

Bumi loped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders. Were he any other man, the airbender might have stumbled with the sudden force, but he was a master of his element and well practiced in the art of both meditation and balance. Aziraphale hardly broke his stride at all, adjusting to his friend’s gait as the earthbender launched into one of his famous lectures.

“Aziraphale, my faithful and devoted student,” Bumi began and Aziraphale had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “There comes a time in every person’s life where choices have to be made. You have to weigh your options and decide which path you wish to take. Do you take the path of Positive Jing and attack your problems head on? Or do you choose Negative Jing, and retreat to fight another day?” He paused to pointedly look down at Aziraphale, ruffling the blonde curls as he did so. “You’ve been choosing the way of Negative Jing for so long. Isn’t it time you swung positive for once?”

This was not the first time Aziraphale had heard of Bumi’s cherished jing metaphors and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Hoping that a taunting jab might lighten his spirits, the man let out a weak laugh, keeping his eyes fixed on Katone as he responded. “I thought you said there were thirty-seven types of jing. Now you’re reducing them to just two? Hardly seems fair.”

Bumi’s laugh was much more boisterous than Aziraphale’s had been, but then again, he wasn’t currently fearing for his life. “There’s actually eighty-five, but we don’t have time to get into those now. The most  _ important _ ones are positive and negative, so that’s what I’m going to focus on.” He paused to take in a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that there is a time and place for everything. Running away has its benefits, of course. But so does standing your ground. So does taking risks.”

Aziraphale shook his head. Not because he didn’t believe Bumi, or trust that his friend was trying to help. He just didn’t know how to be brave. Didn’t know how to take risks or charge forward or stand his ground in the slightest.

He didn’t know how to  _ not _ be afraid. Every second of every day. Since the moment that comet had appeared in the sky and he’d lost everything. 

“Aziraphale,” Katone’s voice drifted over towards him as he ducked out from under Bumi’s shoulder and hurried to catch up with her. “When this war is over and we can finally go home, do you think I could stay with you for a while?” The hope that lingered in the air around her caused his breath to catch in his throat, threatening to suffocate him where he stood. “I’d really love it if you could be my teacher.”

She broke off then, brown eyes drifting to the ground in front of her, unspoken words ringing unbearably loud between them. Katone didn’t have to say it for Aziraphale to understand.  _ I never got to properly learn from a master. I was too young when they came and destroyed it all. Everything I know I’ve had to learn on my own. _

“Of course,” he told her, not knowing what else to say. The ever present ache in his chest grew stronger as he thought about her statement.  _ When this war is over. _ Would that be soon? It felt like the fighting had been going on for centuries, and there was no end in sight. Aziraphale had stayed as far away from it as he could, knowing that if he tried to lend a hand and the enemy spotted him airbending, he would immediately become the primary target.

The Fire Nation would lose the battle a hundred times over if it meant getting their hands on an airbender. Of that, he had no doubt. 

“We don’t even have to go back, if you don't want to,” he offered up, giving her a genuine smile. The one she gave him in return made his heart soar and, for a moment, Aziraphale felt hope blossom in his chest. For a moment, he forgot what it felt like to be afraid. “We can go anywhere you like.”

She hummed, pretending to ponder the thought for a moment. True laughter bubbled up inside him, like a flurry of bumbleflies trying to escape. Aziraphale felt a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and a quick glance behind him at Bumi’s beaming face only made it wider. They both knew what was coming next. How could they not when Katone mentioned it nearly every day?

“I’m not sure where I’d want to go!” she teased. Behind them, Bumi let out a playful groan. His long legs quickly carried him to their side and with the flick of his wrist, the apple core was discarded to the side of the road and he was turning to engage Katone in conversation, walking backwards as he went.

“Bumi!” Aziraphale chastised, not entirely sure if it was for throwing his waste to the ground or not watching where he was going. “Honestly.”

“What?” the red-haired man asked, waggling his bushy eyebrows in Aziraphale’s direction. “It’s part of nature. Should just sink into the ground or something, right?”

Aziraphale stayed silent as he turned to watch his friend, a sort of glowing feeling welling up inside him. He felt like what he imagined a firefly might feel as they fluttered around the temples at night. Filled to the brim with warmth and light, surveying their tiny corner of the world as they flew. There were days - many days - where Aziraphale felt so hopelessly lost. Where he felt like the world was slowly crumbling around him and he was barely hanging on by a thread.

And then there were moments like these, where time seemed to stand still and the world was at peace. For a brief flicker in time, Aziraphale was happy as he walked in silence, watching the two most important people in his life banter back and forth.

“Have you got dragonflies up there in that brain of yours?” Bumi asked, reaching out a hand to rifle it through Katone’s hair. The younger woman laughed, cheeks flushed with color. “Just last night you wouldn’t stop yammering about how much you wanted to see the northern lights. Last I checked, you can’t do that from just anywhere.”

From his position beside her, Aziraphale could only see the right half of Katone’s face, expression turned toward Bumi. Even still, he would have to be blind to miss the playful scowl that appeared along her brow. “My brain works just fine, thank you very much” she argued, pushing lightly against his bare arm. Bumi gasped in shock and stumbled backward slightly, making a show of using his earthbending to steady himself once more as he turned to face forward again and fell into step beside them. 

“I’ve just always wanted to go to the North Pole,” Katone admitted, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. Aziraphale felt a pang in his chest at the thought that he or Bumi had done anything that might make her feel self-conscious. “There was this painting in the room where I slept as a little girl of the pure white tundra reflecting the light of the spirits up above. I used to stare at it for hours on nights when I couldn’t sleep, just dreaming about flying among those lights with my glider.”

“Do the lights stay up there when you fly?” Bumi mused, his voice far off, as if he was talking more to himself than either of them. “Or do they disappear like rainbows do when you get too close?”

Katone shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen them in real life before.”

Aziraphale had never seen them in person either. He’d been to the North Pole once when he was ten years old, and that had been in summer when the lights were less visible. If he had to guess, based on some of the books he had read while still living at the temple, the airbender imagined the northern lights would operate in a similar way as a rainbow. Brilliant from far away, but invisible while close up. Rainbows were created when light refracted through water droplets in the air, creating a vast spectrum of light. As far as he knew, the northern lights had a similar effect, but Katone may have a point. If these lights were a manifestation of the spiritual energy in the north, they very well could linger in the air if one of them were to take to the skies to fly amongst them.

Not that Aziraphale would ever do such a thing. For one, he didn’t have a glider, and even if he did, it was much too cold on a normal day in the North Pole. Add in flying several hundred feet above the ground in the winter and he would surely freeze before his feet touched the ground again. 

“We should all go!” Bumi was saying when Aziraphale’s mind returned to the conversation. “All four of us.”

He paused. “Four of us?” What was Bumi talking about. Was there someone else in his friend’s life he didn’t know about?

Bumi turned to give him an incredulous look. For a moment, Aziraphale felt very foolish, although he could not quite put his finger on why. Was there something he had forgotten in his musings about the northern lights?

“I suppose we shouldn’t put a number on it quite yet,” the earthbender eventually conceded. “For all we know, there could be half a dozen or more people waiting for us.”

Oh. Right. The secret message. The hidden coordinates. For a few glorious minutes, Aziraphale had forgotten all about the potential  _ danger _ they were marching right into. For a brief moment in time, he had simply been on a walk through the forest with the two people in the world that meant the absolute most to him.

Now the moment was shattered. Before Aziraphale even had a chance to get it back, he saw the look on Katone’s face shift from calm amusement to one of barely contained excitement. Without turning to look, the airbender knew deep down they had stumbled upon their destination.

Sure enough, when Aziraphale looked up, his blue eyes instantly fell on a small log cottage a few dozen feet off the left side of the path. It was old and brown, with a patchy thatched roof and ivy growing up the sides that made it clear no one lived here. Or, at least, no one with any sense of decoration or style. Maybe Bumi and Katone were right. If one of the monks had escaped, where would they have settled? Like him, they would have markings that identified them as part of the Air Nation. They would be safer in solitude, in a place quite like this one, that appeared unused and did not draw attention. 

“Well,” Bumi announced, his voice filled with breathless excitement as his feet stuttered to a halt. “It would appear we have arrived.”

The playful, innocent demeanor that had surrounded all three of them up until this point seemed to vanish with the breeze that swept by them. Aziraphale was instantly on alert. His gaze swept the immediate area, studying the patches of grass ahead of them, looking for signs of ironclad footprints. Checking the trees for hidden silhouettes amidst the branches. He breathed in deep, wishing he had the ability to sense danger on the wind, like a fire ferret or a jackalope might. Wishing he had a way to know what lay on the other side of that faded wooden door.

Aziraphale’s heart was racing. His palms were sweaty and his mind was screaming at him to turn around. To run back to Omashu and slam the front door behind him and never come out again. He was happy with the way things were. He didn’t need anything else in his life. Yes, it would be  _ wonderful _ to see one of his old mentors again, or someone from one of the other three temples, but at what cost? Until the war was won and the Fire Nation stopped, even if they were reunited with a hundred airbenders, they would never be safe.

He turned, meeting Bumi’s gaze. _ You’ve been choosing the way of Negative Jing for so long. Isn’t it time you swung positive for once?  _ The advice echoed in his mind as the airbender took a deep breath to steady himself. Bumi was right. Now was not the time to retreat. Now was the time to stand his ground, to face his fears and prove to himself that the world wasn’t as bad as he thought. There was still goodness - still hope. Aziraphale glanced at Katone and smiled. She was proof of that. And here they were, together, ready to find the next member of their once lost family.

Without a word, Aziraphale took the lead, the other two falling into place behind him. It wasn’t that the airbender was a natural leader. On the contrary, Aziraphale much preferred to do his own thing and follow rules set down by other people. But in this specific scenario, he was the most likely one out of the three to know what to do, whatever situation occurred. He was the one most likely to recognize whoever was waiting on them - whether they be friend or foe.

The door slid open with a deafening creak, causing Aziraphale to freeze in place for several long moments. Breath stilled in his lungs and he looked around through the crack he’d made in the doorway, but it was too dark to see much of anything useful.

When the house didn’t explode in a brilliant ball of fire, Aziraphale released the breath he had been holding and took a step forward. Light spilled into the room and the airbender found himself tearing up at the sight. There wasn’t much littering the small room, but the Air Nomads had never been big on material items. What Aziraphale did spot that caused his whole being to flood with relief was the collection of familiar old tomes resting across the table, the faded tapestry hanging on the wall, and the single cake topped with a red swirl of icing.

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale breathed, taking a step into the room, the sound of padded feet against the wooden flooring signaling the others had followed. His eyes swept around him in a wide arc, looking for any sign of movement. Of any clue that someone was nearby. A hot cup of tea, a set of stairs leading upstairs or down. Anything that would allow him to pinpoint the location of the Air Nomad who had made this place home.

A change in pressure alerted him just in time. He felt it like a tickle at the back of his neck, the tiny hairs sticking up straight as the air around Aziraphale stilled for a breath of a moment. For some reason, his eyes felt drawn upward towards the ceiling and the shadowed covered rafters above. Aziraphale let them wander, scanning the empty space until they found something out of place. A pair of bright yellow eyes that had no right to be here, hovering over them, watching them like a hawk watches their prey. 

“Get back!” Aziraphale yelled, heart in his throat, but it was too late. They’d come too far in, moved too slow, assumed too much. Energy crackled in the air around him as a vibrant blue bolt of lightning barreled down from some other hidden place in the rafters, heading directly toward them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These three really get me right in the feels <3 I love them so much. 
> 
> Ok! We are finally at a point where our two boys are in the same room (yay!). Now the story really gets started. I'm still a few chapters ahead and have been writing as much as I can this weekend, so this next chapter will likely either be up tomorrow or Monday. Thank you all again for your encouragement :) It means so much to me!


	8. A Flower in Full Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Minor description of injury and blood.
> 
> It's not graphic at all, but I wanted to give you all a heads up in case that sort of thing made you squeamish. I'm keeping with the T rating for this fic and trying to align it as best I can to what the show would deem appropriate to include. That being said, I'll probably include a CW on anything I think people may have an issue with, just to be safe and so you all know what to expect.

* * *

Crowley was going to kill Dagon by the end of this, if the firebender didn’t kill them all herself first. He was going to tear her a new one and then stab her with his blades several times, for good measure. What was she thinking, setting off a bolt of lightning like that with them all in the room? That kind of unchecked power could have just as easily killed either him or Bealz instead of the young girl she was aiming for. 

“Are you _trying_ to get us all killed?” he snarled at her, knowing full well that his words were more likely to put her in a foul mood, rather than get her to see the error in her ways. Crowley couldn’t help it. He hadn’t been expecting such an abrupt, energy-charged attack right from the start, and as a result, hadn’t prepared himself. Crowley’s eyes had been wide open when the blue light flashed through the room and he’d been momentarily blinded, lashing out at his companion in his anger and frustration instead of focusing on the task at hand. 

It hardly mattered. Seconds later, his vision cleared and Dagon was no longer beside him in the rafters. She was already falling to the ground, hands wrapped around the hilt of her katana, drawing it in the time it took for both Crowley and the party below to figure out just what was going on.

The airbender had seen him, that much Crowley knew. The two had locked eyes seconds before the blast and for a moment, the firebender thought their mission would be over before it started. For a moment, as that blue glow had pulsed through the room and the lightning had raced towards the floor, Crowley thought both the airbender and the girl behind him would be struck down.

That wasn’t the case. When Crowley’s vision returned, he could very clearly see that this man was not one to be trifled with. Somehow, with sheer luck or unbelievable skill, the airbender had moved out of the way just in time. Not only that, he had somehow grabbed onto the girl and whisked her to safety on the other side of the room, the edges of their clothes still fluttering with the remnants of the breeze he must have conjured to do so.

“Bumi!” came the man’s panicked cry from below. “Get us out of here!”

Too late. As Crowley finally got himself moving, leaping down from his perch to join in the fray, a vast wall of multi-colored fire erupted on all sides, blocking off all exits to the outside world. The firebender gritted his teeth, glancing around to see Bealz had emerged from the old wooden wardrobe they’d been hiding inside, grey eyes alight with excitement.

If he didn’t know any better, Crowley would have thought they were both trying to sabotage him. The unannounced flash of lightning, blinding him. The blazing roar of fire, making it impossible to sense the locations of the bodies in the room. Nearly all of his advantages had been neutralized in the span of fifteen seconds, and by his own side, at that.

Well, no matter. Crowley didn’t need those advantages. He could take a single airbender in a fight. Even if the airbender was the Avatar.

He hoped.

Blades drawn, trying his best to ignore the inferno around them, with its hints of green and blue in and amongst the orange, Crowley advanced. Bealz had already engaged the earthbender, Bumi, and was currently hurling violet tinged fireballs at the spiky haired man. From the brief glance he got, it looked as though his companion was holding their own quite well against the chunks of rocks being thrown their way, so Crowley stepped forward to join Dagon in facing off with the airbender and his younger friend. 

They stood together, backs up against the wall, as close to the fire as they could manage without injuring themselves. Quickly, Crowley’s eyes danced across their faces, his hands tight on the hilt of his weapons, waiting for something to happen. Ready to jump, should the earth roil beneath his feet, or dodge to the side if a shard of ice materialized out of nowhere. He even prepared himself for a blast of fire to come careening at his face, but none of that happened. The blonde haired man did not move. He stood frozen to the spot, blue eyes comically wide, his arms wrapped protectively around the girl at his side.

“Why can’t you people just leave us alone?” The girl screamed at them as she ducked out of her companion’s grasp, despite his protests. Holding out both palms, she let loose a gust of air in their direction. Crowley side-stepped it easily, but noticed with a satisfied smirk that it caught Dagon in the shoulder, sending her stumbling for a moment before she righted herself once more. 

After that, all hell seemed to break loose. Dagon lunged, her katana glinting in the firelight and Crowley found himself alone, facing off against this potential Avatar who had yet to do anything except avoid a strike of lightning. A feat, while impressive in its own right, did nothing to help the man now.

Crowley advanced and the pair locked eyes once more. Something shifted in the man’s face - something Crowley couldn’t put words to. One minute, he was looking at the face of a man who was completely and utterly terrified and the next, he caught sight of a spark of fury in those sapphire eyes and was swiftly dodging to the side as slices of wind came hurtling towards him at a breakneck pace. Crowley darted to the left, spinning as he went, arching his arms around to give the airbender a more threatening target to pay attention to that wasn’t his own body. The man, though a bit soft around the middle, was fast. He saw Crowley’s attacks coming and blocked them with gale after gale, forcing Crowley to focus more of his attention on keeping his hold on the weapons and less on actually landing a blow.

They were all matched up now. Bealz against the earthbender - Bumi, and Dagon against what was confirmed to be another airbender. That left Crowley with the male airbender - the potential Avatar. And therein lay the problem. If this man was, in fact, the Avatar, Crowley couldn’t just go about swinging his blades around like a maniac. He couldn’t just _shoot lightning_ out of his fingertips to try and neutralize the man as quickly as possible. The Fire Lord wanted the Avatar _alive_. If this man died today and he was the missing Avatar, Crowley would have to start his search all over again. And he didn’t quite fancy a trip to either end of the world, even if the colder climate did make it easier for him to sense other people when they were nearby.

So, even though he was faced with strike after strike of air slicing by him as he danced and backflipped around the room, Crowley couldn’t strike back. Not with lethal force. He had to bide his time, strike with precision. Go for the blow that would knock this airbender out without creating any lasting damage. 

It would be a challenge, but one that he was sure he could achieve in time.

“A little help would be nice, Bumi,” the airbender panted as he paused in his assault for a moment. Crowley watched as the blue eyes flickered sideways to the other side of the room where Bealz was currently locked in a toe to toe fight with the earthbender. If the trio of firebenders had anything going for them in this fight, it was the location. They had chosen it ahead of time for its seclusion, far away from any towns or villages and the prying eyes that lived inside, and for its structure. Floor and walls made entirely of wood. Wood that held a blaze easily and significantly reduced the threat any earthbender might afford.

“Little busy over here, Az,” the earthbender replied. Crowley took that moment to glance over briefly at the scene currently unfolding. Bealz was still on the offensive, and was pressing forward with fervor, their fists completely covered with flames as they launched the multicolored orbs at their opponent. Bumi, to his credit, had gotten creative with the lack of earth at his disposal. He had ripped some chunks out of a nearby fireplace and was currently using them as a makeshift shield, blocking each blaze that Bealz sent his way, quickly following up with attacks of his own using the pile of coal that had been left near the stone structure.

As quick as his attention had been pulled away, Crowley yanked it back, darting forward with the precision and lethality of a viper mere seconds away from striking. He had thought, with the airbender’s attention on his friends, that he might find an open window, but this ‘Az’ was quicker than the man thought possible. He leapt back, closer to the fire than Crowley would have dared to go, were he not in control of the element, and let loose a violent gust of wind coming, not from his outstretched palms like Crowley had expected it to, but from the bottoms of his feet.

The gale struck him right in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending Crowley flying backward towards the opposite wall which, coincidentally, was still on fire. How Bealz managed to keep up this infernal blaze as well as direct all their attacks towards the earthbender without missing a step, he would never understand. Instinctively, Crowley brought his left hand up, letting the blade fly out of his grip as he struggled to clear most of the flames around him before smashing into the charred wooden surface. Pain erupted along his spine and he would have groaned out loud if there had been anything left in his lungs to give. He could smell the burnt wood, feel the sticky sensation of the melting paint as it attached itself to his clothes. Crowley had just barely managed to remove the fire from his path, which was helpful in preventing him from catching fire, but had done nothing to cushion the blow.

He gasped, struggling to fill his lungs once more. A pale hand gripped his remaining dao blade as the man struggled to remain standing. Through the thin layer of smoke that was rapidly becoming thicker, Crowley could still see the outline of the airbender across the room. Feet began to move and he noticed that the man was not advancing on him, despite the fact that he had been momentarily stunned to inaction, but was racing across the room toward Dagon, who had her back turned to the oncoming threat.

A string of curses lit up his mind as Crowley jumped forward, holding out his blade in front of him. A torrent of fire erupted from his palm, winding its way down the pointed metal object and through the air to intercept his target. The airbender leapt back in surprise, clearly not expecting retaliation so soon, and turned to face Crowley once more. 

Crowley braced himself for another blow. He could still feel the aching across his back in an area that he knew would display a deep purple bruise by morning. Still, this fight was nowhere near over. He had to be ready for whatever the man might throw at him, and find the way to best neutralize him as quickly as possible. Once the potential Avatar was down, he could aid Bealz and Dagon in quieting their targets. But the Avatar came first. He was the reason they were there, after all. 

A loud thud almost caused Crowley to lose his concentration. The fire currently burning around the edges of his sword spluttered for a moment, but a deep inhale of breath brought it immediately back to life. The thud was not accompanied by a groan of pain or shouts of alarm, so Crowley had to assume that whatever was going on between Bealz and Bumi, the other firebender had it completely under control. 

Amber eyes trained on the airbender in front of him, Crowley advanced. He saw the man’s gaze flicker once more over to his female companion and then, to Crowley’s surprise, up to the ceiling. One half a step later and the man was stopped in his tracks by a violent gust of wind that erupted from where the airbender stood. It formed a vast column of swirling air around him, blocking him momentarily from sight as all the dust and debris began to coalesce in the vortex. 

Instead of directing the force at Crowley or one of the other firebenders in the room, the blast shot upward, straight through the roof, blasting a hole right above him and sending debris raining down on them all. Crowley darted to the side as a rather large chunk of wood and a mixture of compact straw and grasses nearly landed on top of his head. Quickly, he snapped his attention back to the man causing the destruction, but the tornado was already dissipating, and to his surprise, the airbender’s gaze was not fixed upon him this time, but on Dagon, brows furrowed, fists clenched at his side, blue eyes shimmering with fear and urgency.

In the blink of an eye, that expression changed. It was small at first, almost imperceptible but Crowley had a sharp eye and an even sharper mind. He felt a chill run down his spine as the man before him froze suddenly. Eyes wide, the ghost of a breath on his parted lips. Unable to look away from whatever was happening on the other side of the room.

“Crowley, catch!”

He turned at the sound of his name, ripping his eyes away from the face that was crumpling in what could only be described as pure agony. A flash of silver caught his attention and the man’s heart leapt into his throat. Without realizing it, his hand was up, reaching out like he had done this a thousand times before. Catching the dao blade by the hilt, blade gleaming in the firelight. A silver blade that was now stained with blood. 

“KATONE!!”

The scream ripped from the airbender’s throat with a force that Crowley was sure could topple mountains. He turned his head to the side, the scene unfolding before him bit by bit. Time seemed to stand still as he took in Dagon, chest heaving, arm still extended from the sword she had tossed his way. And beneath her, the crumpling body of the airbending girl, blood spreading like a flower in full bloom upon her stomach.

It was in that moment, that Crowley realized he needed to re-evaluate his previous choice in wording. If he thought hell had broken loose before, when the airbender woman had attacked Dagon, then this was full on armageddon. In the second it took for him to draw in a surprise gasp, the entire house exploded with a force unlike any he had ever seen. Crowley was thrown back against the wall, his breath once more knocked away as his eyes strained to see what was happening. Torrents of wind slammed into his chest over and over and over again with so much power, he was sure he would not get out of this without several broken ribs, at the very least. His back screamed in pain, the pressure mounting on his chest with each passing second, becoming harder and harder to contain. Crowley gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, reaching out to see if he could detect anything else of use with his other senses.

Sight would have been useless at this point anyway. The air in the room was thick with dirt and dust and all manners of debris, that even if Crowley had been able to keep his eyes open against the force of wind, he wouldn’t have been able to see much. Luckily, he had other ways of understanding his surroundings, and the airbender had done him somewhat of a favor with his attack. The walls were no longer burning with disorienting heat. The airbender had snuffed them all out in an instant - likely the same instant he had thrown all three firebenders to the ground.

With his eyes closed, and the fire no longer burning, Crowley could feel the other five people in the room. Just as he’d suspected, Bealz and Dagon had been thrown away like he had. Rocketed across the room until they were stopped by another inanimate object or, in Bealz’s case, the sheer force of their will. Crowley could sense the heat of their frustration, burning inside of them as they clawed at the splintered ground, struggling to find some sort of hold in it to prevent them from being blown completely out the door. Dagon, much like Crowley, was pressed up against the nearest wall, watching helpless as the room was dismantled all around them, piece by piece.

The earth roiled beneath them and Crowley’s focus was momentarily broken. He cried out, more in frustration and anger than anything else, as the force of it threw him to the ground, landing roughly on his wrists as both hands flung out to catch him. Heart in his throat, the man tried to seek out his enemy. Was this it? A sign that the man was earthbending, that he was the long sought out after Avatar? Or were these tremors the doings of his companion, Bumi? Crowley focused his attention back on the pair, amber eyes squeezed shut as he tried to pick them out.

There! The tall one, Bumi, was standing in the center of the room, not moving, his body positioned toward the airbender who had somehow crossed the room in the split second Crowley’s attention had been diverted. Crowley felt the airbender kneel to the ground and scoop up the girl in his arms without breaking concentration. The wind still pummeling his front side was proof enough of that. Not a single ounce of offensive force was spared as once again, the airbender crossed the length of the room and returned to Bumi’s side.

For a moment, neither one of them did anything. Crowley’s lungs burned within his chest and he wondered if this was the way he was destined to end. Would the airbender keep up his tornado of force until his three assailants ran out of breath completely? Was that what they taught the young airbenders as they were growing up? How to slice open skin and crack chests and steal the air directly from their opponents’ lungs? It seemed the sort of thing one would teach a secret, lethal army, but he was no expert in these things. Crowley knew next to nothing about the Air Nomad culture, other than what he had learned during his short visit to the temples, and whatever secrets they had been hiding lay firmly behind those towering, awe-inspiring locked doors.

Around him, the winds finally began to fade, relieving the pressure against his chest and allowing Crowley to breathe once more. With a surge of adrenaline-filled strength, the firebender leapt up, blades at the ready, only to find himself face to face with an empty room. The ceiling had been completely collapsed, fireplace gone, floorboards ripped to splintered shreds, revealing the packed earth underneath and all the evidence to support the idea that their targets were no longer in sight.

Where had they gone?

“Wha - ?” Bealz sputtered as they lifted themselves off the floor, dusting off their dark grey trousers as they looked around the room in shock. “How did -?”

“I swear to the spirits, when I get my hands on them,” Dagon growled, displaying an equal measure of shock and frustration as he was sure all three of them felt in that moment. They’d laid the perfect trap and somehow had still managed to lose. “They are going to be sorry they’d ever been born.”

Crowley held up a hand, effectively silencing the other two. For a moment, the entire world stilled, the only sound that could reach a human ear was the faint rise and fall of each of their chests as they fought to control their breaths.

Amber eyes widened as he felt it - the shifting of heat beneath his feet, moving slowly away. It was a creative escape - bold, he might be persuaded to say. Certainly something that further served to remind him not to underestimate this airbender and his companions.

Too bad it wasn’t going to work.

“Come on,” Crowley waved, already on the move. “They’re escaping underground. We can keep up easily enough so long as we get a move on.”

And without another word, they were off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully for a first bending fight, this came across alright :) The next chapter is written and edited, but I'm probably going to wait until Tuesday to post so I have time to set up a few scenes after that. It's another busy week at work, so I will likely only be updating twice between now and next weekend. Thanks for being so patient, everyone! Your support means the world to me and I am so happy you are all enjoying this fic so far.
> 
> Also, for anyone subscribed to this fic, I've noticed that Ao3 has recently been very delayed with notifications for updates (for reference, this chapter was posted Sunday June 14th at 3pm EST) . Feel free to read future chapters whenever you can, but if you want to know the second it comes out, I'd suggest checking my twitter, as I post there right after this goes live.
> 
> @beckers522


	9. A Spark of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter is where the 'minor character death' tag comes in. So sorry :( but it had to happen for the story to work the way I wanted it to.

Katone’s body should not have weighed so heavily in his arms. Or, rather, his arms should not have been trembling the way they were when she felt so incredibly and impossibly and unnaturally light, dangling from his grasp. The only thing that kept Aziraphale moving as he followed Bumi down the inky-black tunnel, earth shifting around them as easily as ocean waves against the sand, was the soft feeling of her ragged breath against his neck. Her face was nuzzled up against it, the tip of her nose the barest pressure, reminding him that she was still here with them. She was still alive, and he would blast the entire world apart piece by piece if the universe took her from him now. 

“Can’t we go any faster?” Aziraphale whispered to where he thought Bumi’s backside was. It was impossible to see anything in this darkness. At the first sign of escape, with the cottage’s floorboards having been ripped from their foundation, Bumi had tunneled down into the earth, giving them all a way out and then sealing it tightly behind them. It had been a genius move, and one that Aziraphale would never have thought of in his earlier panic. But in assuring they wouldn’t be followed, the earthbender had blocked out every last ounce of sunlight. There was nothing down here but damp earth and the barest hint of air.

“I’m trying my best, Az,” Bumi answered, an obvious tremble in his voice. Instantly, a wave of guilt washed over the man and he gripped Katone tighter, fighting back the ache in his heart that was threatening to overwhelm him. Of course Bumi would be devastated by what had just happened. _Of course,_ he would be doing everything in his power to get them to safety as fast as possible. He cared about this girl just as much as Aziraphale did. She was _family_ , and they were losing her.

 _I’m sorry._ The words stuck in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He took another step and stumbled forward, but caught himself as the earth beneath his feet seemed to readjust itself on its own, with a small nudge from the man in front. Katone groaned softly against him, and Aziraphale slowed his footsteps, trying not to jostle her more than absolutely necessary.

In the darkness of the makeshift tunnel, Aziraphale was completely blind and practically deaf. There was no echo like one might expect to find in a large cavern. Bumi had removed the earth in the immediate vicinity, but as they marched forward, he shifted the dirt behind them, packing it in and covering their tracks as best he could. The air was stifling, the heavy smell damp earth mixing in with the much sharper scent of freshly spilt blood.

“Is there anywhere we can stop and get some light down here?” Aziraphale asked. “We need to stop the bleeding, if we can. Or at least slow it down.”

He was no physician. Neither of them were. Of course, that didn’t mean Aziraphale was completely useless. He’d been practically on his own since he was thirteen, running for his life from the Fire Nation. The airbender may not be a surgeon or know how to cure an infectious disease, but certainly knew his way around bandaging wounds. 

Bumi slowed to a halt and took in a deep breath. Knowing what was likely coming next, Aziraphale widened his stance and adjusted his grip on Katone, trying not to think about how damp the fabric of her shirt was at the edge of his fingertips. How much blood had she lost? She was still breathing, right? Was she? He couldn’t tell.

“Katone?” Aziraphale murmured as he felt the earth beneath his feet begin to tremble. The walls on either side of him began to expand, painfully slowly, as Bumi created a larger space for them to take stock of their situation. “Katone, are you still with me? I need you to stay awake, alright? Stay with me. Talk to me.”

“It hurts.”

Her soft voice, so clearly unable to hold back her tears, nearly broke him. Moisture stung at his eyes as Aziraphale slowly knelt to the ground, still cradling her body against his own. Once her legs were resting against the cold earth beneath them, he allowed his right hand to travel up the edge of her form, ghosting over the warm, damp fabric against her stomach until it came to rest on her shoulder. The quiet rustle of fabric against fabric reached his ears and Azirapahle suddenly felt a soft presence on his hand.

Tears spilled over as Katone squeezed it with her own, whether as a result of her own pain or in an attempt to comfort him, Aziraphale would never know. And he as sure as hell wasn’t about to ask. Now was not the time to try and assuage his rapidly rising guilt or fear. Now was the time to focus on saving Katone.

“I know, I know,” Aziraphale soothed as he fought down the lump in his throat. Heart hammering away inside his chest, the airbender closed his eyes and pictured the young woman currently cradled in his arms. What he wouldn’t give to be a waterbender right now. Not only could he provide them with some semblance of light, but he would also be able to _heal_ Katone with a single act. Not sit here helpless as Bumi fought to protect them both.

“Shit!!” the earthbender cried much louder than Aziraphale had expected. A wave of icy cold water splashed down on his right shoulder and the airbender recoiled instinctively, but the stream of liquid was already gone. Bumi had sealed the hole he’d made and by the sound of his muted footsteps, was pacing anxiously back and forth across the cavern.

“We have to keep moving,” the man urged, barely able to keep the panic back from his voice. Aziraphale shook his head, then, a second or two later realized Bumi could not see him.

“We can’t,” he argued, ears straining to hear Katone’s breaths in the stifling space around them. “We don’t have time, Bumi. We need to help her now.”

A huff. “Az, I can’t break through to the surface.” He sounded on the verge of falling apart now and Aziraphale could feel the air becoming harder to draw in with each breath that he took. “We’re under a lake or river or _something_ and I don’t know where it ends and if we don’t get out of here soon we’re all going to suffocate and - “

“Bumi,” Aziraphale interrupted quietly. Despite the softness of his voice, it seemed to weigh magnitudes in the small space they found themselves in. Bumi took in one gasping breath and then fell silent, waiting to hear what Aziraphale would say next. In all honesty, the airbender didn’t know. He was just as trapped as Bumi was. Fighting off his terror with every ounce of strength he had left. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? What comfort or hope could he offer? 

“How far does your bending extend?”

The question caught Aziraphale off guard, even though he had been the one to ask it. Somehow, in the midst of his rising panic over Katone’s well-being, when faced with a problem he actually _could_ solve, the airbender immediately went into analytic mode. His gears were turning at a million miles a minute, picturing the landscape they’d already walked through to get here, corresponding each twist and turn of their path with the image that had been laid out on the table back home.

“I dunno,” he murmured, much closer to Aziraphale than he had been moments before. “I usually only ever bend what I can see. A few dozen meters I would guess.”

Aziraphale nodded, forgetting once again that Bumi couldn’t see him. “I think the river here is less than a kilometer wide. See if you can’t sense where it starts and ends.”

“Even a kilometer is stretching it, Az - “

Bumi broke off suddenly, at the feel of Aziraphale’s hand on his. Katone had released her grip at his gentle tug and he’d immediately grabbed ahold of Bumi’s wrist as best he could and directed his hand, not in the direction of one of the walls on either side of them, but up towards the ceiling.

“Oh.” The still, soft voice seemed to echo around them in a way all other words hadn’t. Aziraphale felt his stomach twist itself into knots as the shift of clothing and scuffle of footsteps signaled Bumi moving away. Moments later, a sigh of relief, followed by the gentle tremor of a small hole being drilled through one of the walls, leading outward and upward.

It did nothing to alleviate their darkness, but Aziraphale felt the change in the air immediately. With his free hand, the airbender began to cycle the air around them, pulling the fresh in and expelling the stale air back out. Based on the flow and the resistance that met him, he could tell that Bumi had made the hole small, almost impossible for someone on the surface to spot if they were being followed. Although, Aziraphale had to wonder how. The three that had ambushed them in the cottage were all clearly firebenders. It would be impossible for them to track their targets while tunneling through the earth, which is exactly why Bumi had thought of it as an escape route. They were safe, for now. Safe, but not secure.

“Aziraphale?” Katone’s soft voice brought his panic back like a tidal wave against the rocky shore. Even though the air around them was now fresh and clean, Aziraphale found that once again, he was struggling to breathe. How much time did they have left? How bad was her wound? The stench of blood was still thick around them, and a brief brush of his hand against her clothes revealed that her wound had not stopped, by any means. She was bleeding out in his arms, growing weaker by the second. And they had no way to help her.

“Hang on, Katone,” he urged her, moving his hand to brush the hair away from her face. “We’re going to get you help, ok? Just hold on a little longer. Don’t give up yet, yeah? Promise me you won’t give up yet.”

“Azira...phale.” His heart thudded painfully in his chest. It felt as though that firebender had slid her blade into his heart instead of Katone’s stomach. She couldn’t die, she _couldn’t_! But what could he do?

“Here.” A bundle of cloth was thrust into his lap. “Use it to stop the bleeding as best you can. I’ll try to get us some light.”

Aziraphale felt around with his free hand until he found the highest concentration of dampness. He took the bundle, which he assumed had to be Bumi’s shirt, and pressed it firmly against Katone’s stomach, expecting her to cry out in pain. Other than a quick gasp of air, there was no sound at all, which only served to further his fears that all three of them weren’t going to make it out of this. 

The earth shifted again and Aziraphale turned his head toward the noise, chastising himself when he remembered, yet again, that he couldn’t _see._

“Aziraphale.”

This time, it came out as barely more than a breath of air. Something that he felt, rather than heard, and the man felt a tear overflow his eyelid and begin running down his cheek. His throat burned with the effort of holding what he could back and his mind was suddenly filled with images of a terrible reality that could very well be lying right in front of him. A reality that he was desperate not to face.

A spark of light flashed behind him, illuminating Katone’s face for the briefest of seconds. In it, Aziraphale saw the unmistakable marks of fear, and pain, and more sorrow than he thought his heart was capable of bearing, and yet, here he was - kneeling on the ground, cradling this girl he loved close to his chest, as she took what could very well be her last breaths.

“I don’t want to die down here,” she sobbed, the brief spark of the flint Bumi had located enough to reveal Aziraphale’s own expression to her. “I want to see the sun again. I want to feel the wind on my cheeks. Please, don’t let me die down here.”

“Shhhhh,” Aziraphale soothed, fighting back a sob of his own as he gathered Katone up in his arms, pressing a kiss lightly on her forehead. Bumi was still struggling behind them to get something to light, plunging the cavern into darkness once more, interrupted by brief flashes of orange light. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ll see. The three of us are going to be just fine.”

She smiled, despite the pain and Aziraphale pressed down harder. Was that moisture he felt? Or was his mind playing tricks on him? Surely the blood had to have stopped by now. If it hadn’t, then she - 

“I’m glad I got to see you again,” Katone breathed, bringing a hand up to rest her fingertips on Aziraphale’s cheeks, right where the traitorous teardrop had fallen. “Before the Fire Nation found me.”

No. Aziraphale’s free hand rushed up to meet her, squeezing tightly around her fingers. Why did they seem so fragile now, when they had never appeared that way to him before? He felt as if one wrong move might break her. _This can’t be happening_. How was this happening? Just this morning, they had been laughing with each other while eating breakfast. The previous night, she had stared up at him with wide eyes, head settled firmly in his lap as she listened to him tell story after story of growing up at the air temple. He couldn’t be losing her now. Not after he had only just found her.

“Please don’t let this be goodbye,” Aziraphale found himself whispering back as his heart cracked open inside of him. Hot tears poured down each cheek as he struggled to hold in the sobs that were clawing to get out. “Please, Katone. I’m not ready. I can’t do this again. _Please._ ”

Another flash of orange light. There were tears in her eyes, reflecting his own. In that moment, Aziraphale hated himself more than he ever had before. Back when he’d lost his people he had been thirteen years old. Little more than a child. There had been nothing he could do but stand back and watch his world go up in flames. He could hardly be blamed for not saving them then.

But this? Now? This was entirely Aziraphale’s fault. He could have stopped them from coming today. He could have convinced them it was a bad idea, but he’d let his blasted _hope_ blind him and now he was standing at a precipice. After ten years of clawing his way back up, he was about to tumble over the edge once more. And it was all his fault.

“I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment, pulling in a stream of fresh air that he could breathe in deeply, his resolve hardening with each passing second. If it had to end, he wasn’t going to let it end like this. 

“Bumi.”

The earthbender didn’t need to be told twice. With a grunt that was much softer than the effort expended alongside it, Bumi punched a tunnel into the wall beside them. Then, without missing a beat, he lifted the earth beneath Aziraphale’s kneeling form and lifted the three of them up and out of the cavern they’d dug themselves into.

Sunlight and fresh air hit them like the cold river water had minutes ago. Aziraphale gasped with the contrast, his blue eyes squeezing shut for a moment as they took time to adjust. Even after Bumi had set them down gently on the ground, the airbender found himself clutching Katone tightly to his chest, shoulders trembling, holding his breath tightly in his chest, knowing that if he let it out now, he might never catch it again. 

“Isn’t the sky so beautiful?” Katone’s now small voice asked, but there was a spark to it this time. A lightness that hadn’t been there underground. A glimmer that made Aziraphale think that maybe, _just maybe_ , he wasn’t about to lose everything he cared about all over again. 

He didn’t look at her wound. Didn’t look at the red stained cloth in his hands. Didn’t look at anything but her round face, and soft brown eyes. Katone’s cheeks no longer held that rosy color that filled his heart with warmth. Her gaze seemed unfocused as she looked up past him, through the lush green branches overhead, and up into the dazzling blue sky - just a few shades lighter than his own eyes.

“I think flying is the thing I miss the most.” She was babbling now, just talking for the sake of talking, and Aziraphale let her. He stayed quiet and smiled with tears streaming down his cheeks, and gazed at her until her face became burned into his mind’s eye. Whether he lived another few weeks or months or years or decades, Aziraphale never wanted to forget this sweet, sweet girl. Not as long as he lived. This girl who was so full of life and of love. Who was quickly fading from this world, her feet already walking the path to the next.

“I can’t wait to fly again soon. When this is all over.” She smiled, brown eyes glistening. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Being up there, with the birds, and...the clouds, and the _stars_. It...can’t be...beat, can it?”

And then she was gone. Aziraphale sensed it as she breathed out her last breath. The shift in the air, the way her eyes became just a bit duller, her body a bit lighter. It was as if the spark that made Katone so _real_ vanished with the wind, and he was left with nothing more than an empty shell of who she used to be.

In hindsight, one of them should have kept watch. There were still at least three firebenders in the general area, on the lookout for them, and Katone’s death wasn’t going to change the fact that Aziraphale was in danger. Yet, somehow, it made the fact less important. Let them come. Let them try to take him away or kill him, like they had her, and they would find out just how dangerous an air nomad could be.

Bumi dropped to his knees beside Aziraphale, painfully silent as he took in Katone’s form. Aziraphale’s hand still pressed down against her stomach, trying in vain to stop the blood that now no longer mattered.

“You need to go,” Bumi pointed out quietly, amidst the trees they found themselves surrounded by. A breeze whistled through the branches and Aziraphale found himself looking up, wishing to catch sight of a glider streaming by overhead, imagining it could be Katone on her way to someplace safer. Someplace happier. “It isn’t safe for you here.”

Aziraphale shook his head, and for once, Bumi could actually see his response. That didn’t stop the man from adding words to the action. “I can’t leave her.” A lump lodged itself in his throat and the cool, calmness that had overtaken him just moments before as he had listened to Katone’s last words began to crumble. Everything hurt. His arms ached with the weight of holding onto her. His chest burned with the effort of trying to hold the floodwater of his emotions back. His legs had pins and needles running up and down them but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

Katone was gone, and nothing else mattered anymore.

“There’s nothing you can do, Az,” Bumi argued. “She’s gone and those firebenders are still out here. You need to leave, now. Before they find us.”

“I can’t leave her,” he echoed, those words apparently the only ones he currently knew how to speak. “I can’t leave her.”

A hand found its way onto his forearm, pulling it away from her stomach. Blue eyes found green and through the blur of his tears, Aziraphale was able to see just how heartbroken his friend was. In that moment, Bumi looked the most un-Bumi-like that the airbender had ever seen.

“I will take care of her,” Bumi assured him, “I promise.”

Anger bubbled up inside Aziraphale as he yanked his hand back and angrily used it to wipe his tears away. “No. You can’t. You’ll just bury her in the ground. You’ll forget about her!” He was practically shouting now, undoubtedly drawing unwanted attention, but Aziraphale didn’t care. Shouting felt _good_ . He wanted to scream. He wanted to slice down every last tree in this forest. He wanted to climb up to the highest mountain and cry until he no longer had a voice left to be heard. He wanted the whole entire world to hear him, so then maybe, just _maybe_ , they might understand his pain. “She didn’t want that. She wanted to be up here, with the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. You can’t just stick her back in the ground again. I won’t let you!”

The wind was picking up around them, tossing the leaves on the trees wildly around, like a storm was on the horizon, except the sky above them was the brightest of blues. Bumi retracted his hand and fixed Aziraphale with a firm stare. For the first time, in the five years that the airbender had known him, Bumi was angry.

“Do you honestly think you are the only one who has lost someone special today?” he asked and the wind immediately died. Guilt stabbed at the airbender, but he remained silent, letting his friend continue. “Do you think you are the only one who is to blame? I might as well have been holding that blade, Aziraphale. I did this. I pushed us right into danger. This is _my_ mistake and I won’t let today take another friend from me. I won't.”

Unlike Aziraphale, Bumi did not lose control of his bending as he gave light to his feelings. His face was hard, eyes brimming with tears, but he did not allow the earth to move a single millimeter more than it should. Instead, he leaned forward and gently took Katone’s body from Aziraphale’s arms, gesturing with a nod of his head to the single pack that they had managed to grab amidst their crazy escape.

“Take it,” he urged, a gentle nudge of earth at Aziraphale’s backside as the airbender attempted to stand, helping steady him on his feet. “Go to Kyoshi. I have a cousin there. She can take you in. I’ll come find you in a few days, after - “

“No,” Aziraphale interrupted as he reached for the bag, slinging it over his shoulder. His eyes had dried, but the moisture on his cheeks were still there, despite having tried to wipe it away. “Not Kyoshi.” Omashu had been his home for the past five years. If the firebenders had followed him out here, they had found him in Omashu. They had caught a glimpse of something that had alerted them to his presence and disaster had followed. Aziraphale couldn’t allow that to happen again. “Not yet. There’s somewhere else I have to go first. Something else I have to do.”

Bumi nodded and rose to his feet, cradling Katone’s head against his chest just as Aziraphale had before. Forcing a smile, the airbender stepped forward, his lips brushing up against Katone’s forehead as he gently slid her eyelids shut for the final time.

“I’ll take care of her,” Bumi assured once more and Aziraphale nodded his head in acknowledgement. It had been foolish of him to suggest anything else of his friend. “I’ll see that she’s returned to the wind where she belongs, I promise.”

Aziraphale placed a hand on Bumi’s forearm, unable to express anything his heart was feeling in that moment. Instead of words, the airbender rose to the tips of his toes and placed a single kiss on the man’s temple, before rocking back on his heels and whispering into the space between them. 

“I pray that we meet again someday.”

The corner of Bumi’s lip quivered and in his eyes, Aziraphale saw reflected all those same feelings. Neither one of them could put words to it, but they both understood each other in that moment more than they ever had before.

“May the winds carry you to where you can find happiness,” Bumi echoed, his green gaze never once leaving Aziraphale’s face.

How had everything gone so wrong? How had a day dawning in hope changed to something filled with despair? Aziraphale was on the run again. He had no home, nothing to his name but whatever Bumi had packed in his bag. He would make do - Aziraphale always did - but the thought of not returning to Omashu tonight just added weight to the unbearable load his soul was already forced to carry. A weight that he had been carrying for far too long.

But, for the first time in nearly ten years, the airbender had a destination in mind. For the first time since the comet struck, he wasn’t just running for his life day in and day out. For the first time, Aziraphale had a plan, of sorts, and perhaps this time, that would make all the difference.

So, without another word, Aziraphale turned around and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a bit of a break today to do some writing, but a busy schedule the next few days. I am hoping to get the next chapter to you all this weekend, but it may have to be pushed to early next week. I think Ao3 has fixed their notification delay, though, so hopefully you won't have to wait 24+ hours to read this :)


	10. The Western Air Temple

They vanished at the river.

Crowley had them until then. All the way through the forest, as they passed underneath trees and around collections of twigs and brush, he could sense them. The earthbender hadn’t burrowed too far underground, which only served to help Crowley in his pursuit. He could feel the heat emanating from their bodies just as he felt the sun’s rays on the back of his neck each time they passed through a patch of dappled light. It was child’s play, tracking them each step that they took, until they reached the rushing waters up ahead.

In all honesty, the term ‘rushing’ was a bit strong to be applied to this portion of the river. It moved along at a much lazier pace, drifting from one point to another as it made its way south to the sea. That hardly mattered to Crowley. Even if this body had been a stationary pond, it would have still stopped him in his tracks. Figuratively and quite literally, as the man skidded to a halt by the rocky bank, amber eyes flicking back and forth, searching for something to fixate on.

“Why’d we stop?” Dagon asked with an obvious breathiness to her voice that signaled she was quickly running out of stamina. Crowley took some solace in that fact, knowing that the conversation that was moments away from beginning was about to take a turn for the worst.

“Can’t sense them anymore,” the man huffed back, using his eyes to scan the area. His abilities to sense another person’s body heat were strongest out in the open. The more layers between them - whether that be the earth beneath his feet or stone walls or anything else - the closer he had to be to follow his target’s signal. And since walking on water was out of the question, Crowley was out of options.

There was no way that earthbender knew where he was going, not buried underground the way he was right now. Furthermore, there was no way he knew he was being followed. So, what? Had he simply set a straight course assuming they were in the clear and had kept going? If Crowley crossed the river now and headed in a straight line, would he run into them again? Or had they somehow changed course in the precise location that Crowley would be unable to feel it?

“You can’t - “ Dagon’s voice was filled with incredulity. “I’m sorry, were we running around this blasted forest following a  _ sense _ of yours? What kind of backwards logic is that?”

For once, Bealz was the one who came to Crowley’s defense. “He’s the best in the business for a reason, Dagon,” the firebender chastised, lifting a hand to pat down the flyaway strands of their inky black hair. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure out there has to be something about him that sets him apart.”

Dagon looked at Bealz with wide eyes. “Are you kidding me? Bealz, enough with this fairytale bullshit. You can’t seriously think - “

Bealz fixed her with a stare that made Crowley shiver, and he wasn’t even looking at the pair. Nothing seemed to stick out as his gaze swept the area, so the man took off to the south, figuring going some direction was better than standing still. That girl with them was injured - Crowley had seen the wound himself. They would have to stop eventually, and he was fairly certain that at least some of their supplies had been left behind at the destroyed cottage. If he wandered around a bit, perhaps he would sense them once more. 

“Did you manage to grab anything off her?”

Bealz’ question took Crowley by surprise, mostly due to how out of place it felt. He had brought them together to capture the potential Avatar and these two were preoccupied with some insignificant airbender girl. It hardly made any sense.

“Only this,” Dagon responded from behind him as the three firebenders began to follow the river south. “I don’t think it will be enough.”

Crowley spun on his heels, keeping pace as he walked backward, amber eyes fixed on the both of them. A glint of something caught his attention and he took note of a small pendant clutched in Dagon’s fist, the tiny emblem swinging back and forth. He couldn’t get a great look at it, but from what he could see, the pendant seemed to be etched with some kind of marking. A rune, perhaps? Or a small, simple design that meant absolutely nothing to him. Obviously, by the look on their face, it meant something to Bealz.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he asked, a hard edge to his voice as Bealz reached out and placed their grime stained fingers on the tiny metal object. It was no bigger than the tip of their pinky, attached to a thin brown cord that had been snapped where Dagon must have yanked it off the girl’s body. “That we lost our target because you two were fixated on another side mission?”

“Don’t act all high and mighty,” Dagon snapped back, reaching for the pendant to pull it back out of Bealz’ grasp. “We lost them because  _ you _ didn’t neutralize your target fast enough. Unless you missed it, I took care of that airbender girl without issue and I would  _ like _ to be compensated for my work.”

So. Dagon had been aiming her attention at the airbender girl - using lethal force - instead of focusing on their main target. How utterly infuriating.

What did they do now? If the trail was truly lost, he would have to start all over again. The airbender obviously knew the trap had been set for him, which meant if he was smart, he would realize he couldn’t go back to Omashu. So, where would he go? Where in the world was left that was safe for him? The Si Wong Desert? Northern Water Tribe? The great city of Ba Sing Se?

He grimaced. Crowley didn’t want to begin thinking about trying to track down a missing airbender in that hellhole of a city. He had thought Omashu was bad enough, but the Earth Kingdom capital? He might actually chalk this mission up to a complete failure if that was where the airbender ended up.

Their one saving grace was Ba Sing Se was nearly three days away on foot, and anywhere else the airbender might go was even further, with the exception of the desert. As he had very little supplies, that course of action was not likely. And, given what had just happened, Crowley had a sneaking suspicion as to where the man might go.

“Alright,” Crowley began with fervor as he spun back around to survey their surroundings, giving his eyes one more chance to spot something worthwhile. “Here’s what we’re going to do. His most likely course of action will be to first return to one of the temples. He’s just lost someone special to him and is going to want to pay his respects.” Pausing, he allowed the other two to catch up with him, then reached a hand out to snatch the necklace straight from Dagon’s hands. 

It was much heavier than he had expected it to be. For such a small pendant, it had a comfortable weight to it. The cord was frayed at either end, but Crowley could easily see that it was made from a thin woven rope, and not from leather like he had initially thought. He let it rest in his open palm, turning the small metal disc over in his hand as he took in the familiar symbol of the Air Nomads on one side, and the much lesser known inscription on the other side. Crowley was no expert in Air Nomad scripts - either the old writings or this much newer tongue - but he was fairly certain her name was written here, and nothing more.

“There’s three of us and four temples,” he continued, pocketing the item, much to Dagon’s chagrin. Luckily, she didn’t push him, realizing that on its own, the trinket didn’t offer her anything, and if Crowley had taken it, he probably had some use to it. “Odds are in our favor one of us finds him before the week is out.”

“What about the earthbender?” Bealz asked suspiciously. Don’t fancy a tangle with the both of them on my own.

Crowley shook his head, the weight of the necklace still firmly between his fingertips. “Bumi will likely return to Omashu once he’s taken care of the girl. I have to hand it to you, Dagon, there’s no way she pulls through, not with an injury like that.” 

He didn’t mention the reason he was so sure of her fate was not his companion’s excellent swordsmanship, but the look on the blonde airbender’s face. He could still see the agony written in every crease of his brow. Could still hear the anguish in the man’s voice as he screamed out her name. The airbender may have fought tooth and nail to save her, but he had known from the moment she’d crumpled to the ground that he was saving a body, and nothing more. 

“Our target knows he’s been found out. He knows he can’t return to Omashu,” Crowley explained, reiterating his earlier thoughts. “So he’ll head to her home first, and then try and disappear. We have one more chance to catch him.”

The only question that remained was - which of the four temples would they search? The Avatar had been born to the southern temple, but those people had been nomads by trade.  _ If  _ he was the Avatar, and  _ if _ he had known the girl prior to them meeting in Omashu, that suggested nothing. In fact, now that he thought back to that festival night, remembering how the blonde man had acted so surprised once he finally realized who the girl was - Crowley was almost certain she was not from the southern temple, which meant, luckily, they could rule the furthest one out.

Bealz and Dagon seemed to come to the same conclusion, albeit through different means, he was sure. The shared a glance before Bealz spoke up, cementing their plans for both them and for Dagon. 

“I’ll take the North,” they announced, choosing the closest one to their current location. “Dagon can take East.”

No argument was heard from the female firebender and Crowley wondered for a moment why that was. It was obvious that traveling to the southern air temple would take at minimum several extra days than the other three, but why not take the western one? Travelling east required Dagon to cross through the Si Wong Desert, which was an inconvenience at best, or take several extra days to go around the vast landmark. Still, Dagon seemed unperturbed by the suggestion, as if there was something about the situation both of them understood but did not feel like sharing with him.

“I suppose that leaves me with the West,” he announced, cementing the plan out loud. Images of foggy skies and sheer rocky cliffs filled his mind as he remembered his trip to that specific temple several months ago. He hadn’t found much of use there before, but perhaps luck would be on his side this time.

Perhaps, this time, he would find what he was looking for.

* * *

Aziraphale didn’t go straight to his final destination. At least, not right away. In retrospect, he probably should have, but the man knew his spirit would not rest until he visited Katone’s home for one final goodbye. After this, there would be no going back to the air temples,  _ ever. _ After this, he would never again be seen as a member of the Air Nation. He would shed his identity and his bending as best he could and fade into obscurity. Either that, or he would die trying.

But for now, the man only wanted one last chance to say goodbye. 

His heart was heavy as he crested the final hill leading up to the temple. For a moment, Aziraphale paused on the edge of the gorge, looking down into the fog filled crevice, catching glimpses of carved statues and ornate columns hiding below. He supposed he was grateful to the Fire Nation for not destroying his culture completely. Yes, they had done their best to wipe out every living soul that called themselves Air Nomads, but they had left the buildings strangely intact. 

Further proof that Sozin’s claims were nothing more than outright lies. He had never cared about the Air Nomads. He had never been trying to protect his people from an impending threat. He had only ever been after one thing. 

The Avatar.

If there was any silver lining in this intense storm, it was that somehow, Aang had survived. Aziraphale didn’t know where his friend was or whether the man even knew what had become of his people, but from what little information he had been able to gather, the sages from the remaining three nations agreed - the Avatar Cycle had yet to continue. There was still an airbender out there somewhere. Watching. Waiting.

That fact alone was the only thing that kept Aziraphale going some days. When all hope was lost, Aang was still there. If only he knew where his friend had gone. If only Aziraphale could find him.

But that wasn’t what he was going to do now. And that wasn’t the reason he had diverted to the Western Air Temple along his way. Today was a day for Katone. As the morning sun began to rise behind the treelines and Aziraphale slowly made his way around the cliffside to where he knew he could safely enter without a glider or his bison, he reminded himself that it was ok to take a day to mourn. He and Bumi had left their assailants behind. There was no one to harass him now. It was ok for him to take a moment, however brief, to breathe.

The temple was strangely quiet, and it took Aziraphale several moments to realize why. The last time he’d been here, the airbender had been greeted with shouts of laughter. With the low grumblings of a mother sky bison as she called out for her calves. There was none of that now. The entire temple had been abandoned on the day the comet struck. In all his wanderings, Aziraphale had yet to run into another Bison. He wondered if the Fire Nation had done away with all of them too, or if the creatures had wisened up and realized that man could no longer be trusted.

He hoped it was the latter. Imagining a world without the majestic, gentle beasts was admitting that the world had lost a bit of its wonder. With everything that he had endured, Aziraphale hoped that the world might hold onto a bit of that wonder, for as long as it possibly could.

Aziraphale had a bison once. All young airbender children got one. He’d picked her out himself, a few weeks after his seventh birthday. Out of all the calves, Lona had been the most timid, hiding behind her mother’s back legs as all her siblings had been chosen. Aziraphale had been patient, however, and had won her trust with some time and a rather juicy apple.

Blinking back tears, the airbender pressed on. He missed her. Aziraphale missed Lona as much as any of his other friends or mentors. An airbender’s bison was a life partner and Aziraphale had been separated from her too soon. The worst part was that he didn’t know if she’d made it out of the initial attack alive. He didn’t know if Lona was alive and he hoped that if she was - if she had managed to escape the raging inferno that had followed that spectacular comet - that his oldest friend was happy and that she was safe.

After a moment, the man came to a complete halt at the top of one of the cliffs. Out of all four of their temples, this was the most unique in his eyes, instead of reaching up out of the mountains towards the skies above, the buildings started at the underside of the cliffs and stretched downward into the gorge in some twisted sort of optical illusion. Stare at it for too long and a person might risk becoming disoriented. It was as if gravity was playing tricks on any observer that might stumble across the majestic structure. 

For an airbender, traversing these halls was simple. A glider was all that was needed to hop from one ledge to the other, to soar across the imposing scar upon the land and to the safety and familiarity of the temple. Like many things, Aziraphale had long left his glider behind, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have a few tricks up his sleeve.

The man took a running start, feeling the exhilarating rush of wind through his curls as he launched himself off the side of the cliff. For a moment, he was flying, becoming one with the winds around him. They tugged at his hair, whistled in his ear, kissed his cheeks with a feather light touch and Aziraphale found himself slowly closing his eyes, relishing the feeling of freedom exploding inside his chest. For a brief moment, he thought about releasing a cry of pure joy, but a decade of paranoia still lingered in his mind. Instead, he enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness, the darkness around him only lending itself to totally giving himself over to the moment, remembering what it was to truly be alive.

And then gravity caught up with him. Aziraphale felt the familiar tug in the bottom of his stomach, pulling him down as the wind rushed upwards past him. Without opening his eyes, he lowered both palms so they faced downward and two invisible gusts of wind materialized at his fingertips, launching the airbender back up towards the nearest ledge. Only once gravity tugged at him a second time did Aziraphale look out at his surroundings once more, directing the air with a more practiced grip. His landing was a bit wobbly, but to his credit, the airbender remained standing throughout its entirety. 

Silence was the only thing there to greet him as the man drew in a deep breath and surveyed the area around him. There ahead, stone steps led up into the mountainside and towards bridges that would take him to other buildings that comprised the temple. To his left, he could hear the trickle of water, signifying a fountain must be nearby, likely just on the other side of the nearest pillar. Memories of the last time he’d been here began to surface and Aziraphale reluctantly pushed them back. There would be time to grieve later. For now, he had something he needed to do.

Aziraphale was wise enough to realize that each nation likely had their own customs for mourning their lost loved ones. As was expected, each custom often coincided with the element to which their culture was tied. He had lived in the Earth Kingdom for nearly a decade now and had seen several extravagant burials, complete with drums and gongs. Pan flutes, and more flowers than he’d ever known to exist in one place. It was the flowers Aziraphale appreciated the most. At the end of it all, instead of being left with a mound of displaced dirt, the families could look upon the multitude of colorful buds and be reminded of all the beauty life had to offer. 

Although he’d never seen one, the airbender imagined a Water Tribe funeral might involve sending the body out to sea, in a vessel crafted by the family and close personal friends. He could imagine, too, that they might also include flowers in their offerings, if such a thing could be found in the colder climates both tribes called home. And it wasn’t hard to imagine what the Fire Nation might do - pyres built high, burning bright and hot and sending the deceased’s spirit up towards the heavens as their mortal body burned away to ashes.

The Air Nomads had looked upon death a bit differently, although their mechanics were somewhat similar to the other nations. Once a person’s heart stopped beating - once the last breath left their lungs, they were gone. There was no spirit that needed to be released, no rituals that needed to be performed for the loved one to move onto a better place. The Air Nomads believed that the moment a person’s old life ended here, their spirit was already ferried onto the next. They were born again the second they died and started life all over as someone new. 

Once upon a time, the Air Nomads might have let nature take its course and left the body at the top of a high mountain for the wind and the rain and various wild creatures to remove it over time, but ever since they’d mostly settled in the four temples, their traditions had morphed into much quicker ones. Once they’d settled in the mountains, they had taken to reducing the remains to ash, and then scattering them to the four winds, rising high above the world on their gliders as a final way of saying goodbye.

Aziraphale didn’t have any ashes, nor did he have a glider, but as he looked up at the stairs leading into the temple, memories of what felt like eons ago swirling in his mind, the airbender knew that he could at least solve one of his problems fairly quickly. 

Less than five minutes later, Aziraphale found himself standing outside a pair of tall double doors. They towered over him, blocking him off from what he knew lay behind. An ornate brass set of pipes covered the front, culminating in two wide funnels pointing out in opposite directions towards the base. These doors were the last barrier, protecting the sanctuary inside from any unwanted intrusions. Meant to only be accessed by the avatar and the Council of Elders, Aziraphale had never been inside any of these rooms. Each of the four temples had one and all could only be unlocked by airbending. Before, Aziraphale had never had a desire to enter, as he understood the knowledge behind these doors was not yet meant for him.

Now, looking up at the doors caused a heavy weight to settle in the man’s stomach. As possibly the only surviving member of his people apart from Aang, maybe the door was meant for him after all. Perhaps it was time he finally opened it.

Taking a deep breath, Azirapahle set his stance. He held both hands in front of him, palms facing forward, and let loose a stream of air that rushed through the piping, turning the gears and dials until a deafening click was heard and the doors slowly swung open. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! Thanks for being patient with this chapter. Last week was crazy busy and I DMed a D&D oneshot on Saturday which wiped me out (weekends are usually when I recover my energy), so I was practically useless this past weekend. The next chapter is another exciting one, so I am hoping to have it ready to go by Saturday or Sunday. I can't wait :)


	11. One Step Too Far

Aziraphale had never understood how certain things seemed to simultaneously exist in opposite states. How could a moment be considered both bitter and sweet? How could words exchanged between friends be clearly misunderstood?

How could his footsteps echo so loudly in a hall that was deafeningly silent? There was not a single sound to be heard as the airbender entered the room and made his way forward, apart from the reverberating noise of his padded feet against the cold stone. The clamor of it put him on edge, making it hard to concentrate on anything of importance in the room. With every thunderous step, Aziraphale fought the instinct to freeze immediately, his ears straining to hear the echos, to try and decipher if anyone else was in the room with him. Despite the fact that he  _ knew _ such a thing was impossible, Aziraphale couldn’t seem to shake the fear that had followed him these last ten years. 

After everything he’d been through, he wondered if he ever would. 

Finally, his eyes adjusted to the dim light and his heart stopped beating so wildly, allowing his focus to return. Aziraphale hadn’t spent too much of his time dwelling on what he thought might lay behind these doors, but in all of his musings when he was younger, a hall full of statues was not something that had ever crossed his mind.

There were hundreds of them. More than Aziraphale could count, starting from the center of the room and moving in an outward spiral to the edge of the wall and then up the walls to the vaulted ceiling above. Each one was unique - male and female, from all four nations. As Aziraphale followed the spiral, he recognized a very distinct pattern. Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Repeat. 

This was the Avatar cycle. These were all the avatars that had ever lived. From the very first to the last. Which meant, if Aziraphale kept walking toward the center, following the spiral inward he should find - 

Sure enough, there he was. At the end of the line of Avatars, with still enough space to fit a dozen or so more, stood Roku. The Avatar before Aang and high ranking member of the Fire Nation. For a while, the airbender stood there, lost in thought. He felt as if he should be angry, staring at the statue of the man who had failed them. A man who had known Fire Lord Sozin - been friends with him, even - and had done nothing to stop the horrors that were to come.

Maybe he hadn’t known. Maybe Roku thought he had done enough to pull his friend off the path he had begun to walk down. Whatever the reason, it hardly mattered now. And as Aziraphale looked up at the man, taking in the detailed wrinkles around his eyes and the curl of his long beard, the airbender could not find it in his heart to hate him. He had been the Avatar once, which meant a part of him lived on in Aang. If he believed anything, Aziraphale knew in his heart that Aang was  _ good.  _ To hate any one of the Avatars would be to hate a part of who his friend was, and no matter how grave his circumstance, Aziraphale couldn’t find it in his heart to do so.

_ Aang _ .

Was it possible he could use this place to find his friend? Aziraphale looked around. He certainly sensed a lot of spiritual energy, and of course he would. This room was a sanctuary after all, dedicated solely to the Avatar. If he stood a chance of locating Aang anywhere using spiritual energy, this would be the place to try.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Aziraphale reached out a hand and pressed a palm flat up against the stone Roku’s chest. He cleared his mind and thought only of Aang. He thought of the boisterous laugh and mischievous grin. He thought of air scooters and the elder monks’ concerned voices as the other children followed the young Avatar’s every move. Aziraphale allowed himself to remember as much as he could, hoping that something might happen. It was impossible to know what to expect, but surely something would. 

Several moments passed and Aziraphale opened his eyes again to find that nothing had changed. He stood in the center of that vast room, still very much alone. He’d had no sudden vision or inspirations of where to look. No flash of bright light or rush of cool air pointing him in the right direction. The only thing that greeted him was a cold silence he very much wished he could shake.

This was pointless. Blue eyes began to scan the room as Aziraphale lowered his hand, fingertips brushing up against the rough stone. There wasn’t much else to this room other than ornate carvings in the walls and a handful of gliders that had strategically been hung high above his head as decoration. 

At least he had that much going for him. The airbender had expected to spend his morning scouring the temple top to bottom searching for one. Aziraphale hadn’t been back to the temples since the comet had come. He had no concept of what the Fire Nation had left standing and what they had destroyed. It was quite possible that they had destroyed all of the gliders here, just as they had taken precious artifacts from the halls and common areas, leaving them all bare.

Luckily for him, the Fire Nation couldn’t get past these doors. They had left this room untouched, and that realization sent a wave of relief through Aziraphale. Turning away from the statue, with its blank stare and cold stone skin, the airbender moved to position himself beneath the closest glider. It was hanging up on the wall, nearly twenty feet above him, centered in between two of the nearest columns to either side. With a quick wave of his arm, Aziraphale stirred the air around him, sending it up in gentle funnel. A tingle of energy crept up his arm as he felt the breeze wrap itself around the glider, tugging it loose from the wall where it hovered for a moment, suspended by an invisible force. 

Unwavering blue eyes watched as the collection of wood and fabric slowly drifted down towards him. With each passing moment, Aziraphale felt his chest constrict, tightening his airway and making it difficult to breathe. He pushed through the sensation, knowing that it would pass. Knowing that as soon as the glider was safely in his hands, he would feel better.

Sure enough, the moment his hand came into contact with the ancient wood and he felt the familiar weight of the object, Aziraphale breathed out a sigh of relief. His fingers curled reflexively around the staff, snapping the wings in with a quick flick of his wrist and a hint of airbending, before lowering it to his side.

What now? Aziraphale had planned on his search for a glider taking up most of his morning. He supposed there wasn’t much left to be found here, and the longer he lingered, the more likely he was to be found out. Not many people chose to travel to the temples. Not anymore. They were difficult to reach without a glider or a sky bison, and now there was the added element of emptiness. An aura of sorrow and despair that most people wanted to avoid. 

Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale turned back towards the door and the morning light still filtering in. It had been nearly fifteen years since he had visited this temple, but if he remembered correctly, Aziraphale was almost sure there were fields with wildflowers growing along the southern ridge of the gorge. The airbender glanced down at the wooden staff in his hands as once again his footsteps thundered around him, signaling his exit from the sanctuary. With this in his possession, he could reach the field with ease. And as long as he stayed low within the gorge, the morning mists would certainly hide him from any prying eyes. If there were even any around to begin with. 

As he emerged from the broad double doors, making sure to shut them securely behind him, Aziraphale squinted his eyes. The previous cloud cover had broken, for the time being, and sunlight streamed through the open windows that lined the stone hallway. A gentle breeze drifted in, causing a soft smile to appear on the airbender’s lips as he made for the exterior of the temple once more. A flurry of anticipation was coming alive inside him, doing its best to push away the overwhelming feelings of loss that always seemed to hover around him. It had been years since Aziraphale had used a glider, and though he knew the risks, there was a part of him that couldn’t wait to take to the skies once more. Just like he had as a young boy, before his world had changed forever.

Traditionally, airbenders shaved their heads for a variety of reasons. It was a symbol of their culture, a reminder of the dangers of vanity and pride. Masters did it to display their full markings. Even the women who bore the signature arrows often chose to forgo at least the front part of their hair to reveal the tattoos. The removal of body hair served a more practical purpose as well. It allowed the airbenders to form a stronger connection with their element.

Even now that his hair had grown out, Aziraphale was still sensitive to tiny motions against his scalp. He could feel when a breeze rushed by, could tell where it came from and where it was going. He could sense minor changes in pressure that usually meant a storm was on the horizon. 

Most importantly, however, was his ability to feel a sudden addition of heat where there shouldn’t be any. It had saved his life on more than one occasion these past ten years, just as it was right now.

Aziraphale dropped into a crouch, swinging his foot in a wide arch around him as the fireball soared harmlessly overhead. A thin blade of air rocketed outward, rushing across the moss covered stone in the direction the attack had come from, slicing off several blades of grass as it flew. Of course, there was no one there, but that didn’t stop Aziraphale’s eyes from rapidly scanning the area, looking for his pursuer.

_ There _ . He spotted the man not too far off, sliding down the steep face of the cliff above. For a moment, Aziraphale’s heart seized in his chest as he pictured the inevitable thud and crunch of bone against the hard surface below, but to his surprise, a red hot flame shot out of both feet, slowing his fall and allowing the stranger to land somewhat neatly on the temple floor.

In the time it took the firebender to find his balance, Aziraphale was moving. Not toward the man to engage him in battle, but away. He rocketed upward, in the direction of the nearest wall, pulling the air around him up to help keep him from falling. The stone was rough and cold to the touch, but he managed to get a firm grip, clinging to the structure for dear life as he blasted himself around the edge of the circular tower and out of sight. 

Another blast of fire careened by him, scraping up against the inverted building, but Aziraphale didn’t stop to get a good look. He was already bounding away, pushing off with as much force as he could muster, using the air around him to keep from careening into the side of the gorge. Even despite the wind rushing past his ears, the airbender could hear the grunts of the man in pursuit. 

How close was he? Was he gaining, or was Aziraphale successfully keeping him at bay? Was it even a him at all, or was a woman now hunting him down? The airbender had barely had a chance to get a glance at whoever it was, and he wasn’t about to stop and ask for introductions now. 

What if it was one of the benders from the safehouse? Surely that was impossible. There was no way any one of them could have known where he was going. Aziraphale had specifically kept his final destination close to his chest, so not even Bumi knew. Even if he had declared it out loud and they had somehow overheard, this stop had been a sidetrack - a deviation from his original plan. This couldn’t be one of the same firebenders. There was no way he had been tracked so accurately, halfway across the world.

No matter. He could worry about how he’d been discovered another time, after he was safe and far away from here. Before today, Aziraphale might have found himself in a bit of a tight spot trying to get away undetected. Now? Now he had his glider. All he had to do was clear enough distance and he would be in the clear.

“What’s the matter?” a voice yelled from much closer than he expected, although that could be a result of the amplification the gorge around them provided. “Too afraid to face me on your own, now that your friends aren’t here to help?”

Despite his best judgement, Aziraphale turned his head and tried to catch a glimpse of the person hot on his tail. All he managed to see was a fluttering black tunic with gold trim and a flash of bright copper hair, reflecting the light of the morning sun. Red hair? Aziraphale’s heart froze inside his chest and his grip faltered, causing him to slide several inches down the rocky face before he was able to find his footing and launch off it once more, heading for another nearby tower. He knew this man. This was the exact same firebender he had faced off against in the cottage. The one with the fiery red hair and demonic eyes - a piercing amber gaze that looked more serpent than man. The one who had given his blade for Katone to fall upon.

Rage burned inside him and the airbender spun around on the spot, sweeping his staff sharply in front of him. A violent gust of wind rocketed out of it, careening forward before slamming into the cliffside in front of him with a thunderous crash. Dust and debris rained down around them and Aziraphale forced a dome of air out around him like a shield, protecting him from the sharp rocks and stone as well as from any fire that might be headed his way.

When the dust settled, the airbender found himself face to face with the other man. They had both ended up on the same upper platform, Aziraphale with his back to the cylindrical column, the firebender facing him with the heavy mists of the gorge rising up behind him. His amber eyes glinted in the sunlight, and as he smiled, all harsh creases and angles. Aziraphale could practically sense the triumph in the air. This man was looking at Aziraphale with a predatory gleam in his eye, poised as if ready to strike, his blades already drawn out in front of him.

“Finally going to face me, are you?” the man taunted, taking a step forward. Aziraphale felt tears prick at his eyes and he forced them back. His heart was racing in his chest, hands trembling in front of him as he gripped the staff, his only source of support in that moment. This was the man who had set the trap, he was sure of it. He may not have held the sword in his hand, but this man was the reason Katone was dead.

Aziraphale hated this man - this monster - with all of his heart. The monks taught peace and love. They taught that everyone should be treated with kindness, no matter what the circumstance. He wondered, deep down, if that kindness would have been extended when the world as they knew it had ended. Would those monks have talked about love and mercy and forgiveness if they knew what fate was waiting for their people?

“Don’t feel like you need to hold back on my account.” His teeth flashed and for a moment, Aziraphale thought he spotted a set of fangs. Shaking his head, the airbender focused his attention back on the threat standing in front of him. Fangs? He was being utterly ridiculous.

Were the other two here? Or had they gone after Bumi? Did he dare to hope that the three  _ hadn’t  _ known exactly where he had gone and had split up in order to find him? 

“Come on!” the firebender practically shouted, sending a burst of flame in Aziraphale’s direction that he easily sidestepped. “Give me your best shot. I can take whatever you can dish out.”

Aziraphale did absolutely nothing. He wanted to lash out at the man. Wanted to whip up a gale so fierce that it sent him flying backward, slamming into the imposing cliff at their side. It was clear that this was exactly what the man  _ wanted  _ him to do, so he forced himself to remain still, hovering on the tips of his toes, ready to dart to either side should the need arise.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Aziraphale responded as calmly as he could, blue eyes moving to rest on the man’s face once more. Now that they were closer, he could see that the firebender was actually quite handsome, if you ignored his unsettling eyes. He had sharp, angular features and a thin frame that was well suited to swift strikes and acrobatic movements. Contrary to Aziraphale’s own ensemble,made up of baggy clothes in a conglomeration of mottled browns and greens, this man’s outfit was crisp and clean. It was mostly made from fine black fabrics trimmed in gold, cinched at the waist with a gold belt that now fluttered in the breeze that blew by them. 

Who was he? Surely not a member of the royal family. A soldier, perhaps? He dressed much nicer than any other Fire Nation soldier Aziraphale had seen. A bounty hunter then? This man was going to an awful lot of trouble to track him down. It couldn’t have been easy to follow him all the way here from Omashu, and yet this man looked almost pleased at their interaction. Like he was playing some sort of game. A game that he thought he was winning.

“I just want to be left alone.”

The man scoffed, disappointment written all over his face. “And they call you the most powerful bender in all the world? Pathetic.”

Before Aziraphale could utter another word, the man struck. His blades flashed out in a straight line ahead of him, thin tendrils of fire starting at the base of the man’s palms and quickly rushing out. They coiled around the metal like a viper rushing its prey, coalescing into a single torrent of flame that rocketed straight at Aziraphale with unparalleled speed. 

Aziraphale’s first instinct was to drop down again, but the quickest of glances revealed that this time, the firebender was expecting a maneuver like that. It was evident in the way he held himself, wrists loose and ready to redirect the blast in a downward motion. Legs tense as he prepared to launch himself forward. 

_ Let him come, _ Aziraphale thought as he reacted, this time shooting himself up and out. Just as he expected, the firebender darted forward, aiming low. With a single swipe of his arms, Aziraphale brought the staff down. Energy rushed through his entire body as a gust of wind manifested from the end. It rushed through the air, blasting into the ground, missing the firebender by mere inches. 

The air around him whistled with energy. Tucking his legs in close to his chest, Aziraphale somersaulted through the air, maneuvering the wind currents to ensure he landed lightly on his feet at the edge of the overhang, clothing fluttering all around him as he did so. The firebender was already back on his feet, shooting one blast of fire after the other in his direction. Aziraphale deflected them with ease, directing them back towards him with a vengeance.

As expected, his opponent dodged the blaze with ease, sidestepping the first one and then using his blades to catch the rest, dispersing them before they could do harm. If Aziraphale hadn’t been so angry in that moment, he might have stopped to take note of how skilled this man was. Not many people that weren’t airbenders could have maneuvered around this place as fast as Aziraphale had. This man had clearly been trained in several different fighting styles. And all of them, right now, were being used to try and take Aziraphale down.

Another flash of fire was sent his way and Aziraphale dodged to the side again, using his bending to lift himself through the air as if he were as light as a feather. The firebender lunged once more, but was no more victorious than he had been the last time, only succeeding in swapping their locations yet again. 

Aziraphale was at a loss of what to do. His first instinct was to take a running leap and vault off the side. With his glider in hand, it would be easy enough to vanish into the fog, release the familiar orange wings, and fly away. Even if, somehow, he managed to lose it in the jump, Aziraphale was confident enough in his bending abilities that he would be able to catch himself before smashing into the bottom of the ravine. He could escape this fight. All it would take was one single jump.

Memories of bright flashing blue light filled his mind and the airbender’s heart stilled in his chest. That bender who had been with this one earlier - the one with the long hair who could shoot lightning from her fingertips - she was still out there. It was possible she had positioned herself further away from this fight and was simply waiting for an opportunity to strike. 

Aziraphale’s stomach churned violently inside of him as his blood turned cold. Out of all the horrible memories he still had of that day, the one that stuck with him the most was seeing those cold blue lines, shooting up from the ground towards the dozens and dozens of airbenders trying to escape. All the women and the children - the boys he’d grown up with - struck down with more power than he had ever seen in all his life.

He didn’t want to go out like that. Aziraphale didn’t want to  _ die.  _ The whole point of this trip north was to find a way so that he wouldn’t die. To find a way for him to finally be left in peace, to live out the remainder of his miserable life. Aziraphale was not about to have that small thing taken away from him. Not for a simple choice he made to spend mourning his friend. These firebenders were  _ not  _ going to get the best of him today. He would see to that.

The next blaze of fire came at him from a spinning kick. The firebender vaulted up into the air, rotating on his side as the flames erupted from the soles of his black boots. Through the blazing light, Aziraphale watched him spin through the air with the grace of a dancer, landing on the tips of his toes, poised and ready for the response.

Though his eyes remained steady, Aziraphale’s hands did not. Fury burned through him and he swiped the staff rapidly out in front of him, a gust of wind slamming into the fireball and sending it, not back at the firebender, but up toward the cliffside above them.

A shower of loose rock and debris rained down on them both. Aziraphale reacted instantly, forcing out another dome of air to keep him safe from the rubble. Not expecting the attack to divert in such a fashion, the firebender stepped back in a rapid attempt to avoid the worst of it. In doing so, he misjudged the distance behind him, left foot extending outward, expecting to be met with solid ground where there was nothing but air.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Serpentine amber eyes blew wide with alarm. Through the settling dust, Aziraphale watched as the man’s momentum caused him to lean his full weight back on a foot that had no support. With one soft gasp of shock, the man’s arms extended, as if to catch himself, before he slipped off the edge and tumbled over and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! 
> 
> I was hoping to get this one out to you earlier this week, but had a bit of trouble motivating myself to work on it (depression can really do a number on that motivation). It's been a bit of a rough week and I just needed to take a little time for myself and step away from the writing for a bit until it was ready to flow again. I think I managed to do that. Hopefully you all can see that reflected in this chapter and it doesn't feel too forced or rushed.
> 
> Next chapter (from Crowley's POV) should be out mid week (probably Wednesday or Thursday if I don't get too bogged down with work and life). Thank you all for your unwavering support. Your words of excitement and encouragement really do help me push through the difficult days and make me want to get this story out there for people to enjoy. 
> 
> As a secondary note/question for you all: part of my self-care these past few months has been learning how to use watercolors. I've never thought of myself as much of an artist, but I've certainly been learning a lot. I went ahead and painted a scene from this story (and have others in my head I'd love to create as well) and my question for you all is: would you like to see anything like that, and if so, would you prefer that I post any artwork I (or anybody else) make in this fic? Or create a separate one with just the art and link the two together in a "series"?
> 
> Thank you again from the bottom of my heart. You all are wonderful and I'm so blessed to have you on this journey with me!
> 
> Edit: I added my first bit of artwork into a new work called "The Burning Sky Art". You can find it here!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961102


	12. Rescue

In all the possible ways he had imagined his life ending, plummeting into a deep ravine after losing a fight to the Avatar had not been one of them. Trampled by a herd of Canyon Crawlers? Sure. Crushed by a giant boulder or run through by a metal blade? An almost probable occurrence in his line of work. Accidentally swallowed by an elephant koi? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined it once or twice. But in all of his musings, in all of the scenarios he’d played out in his head, Crowley had never imagined this, for one simple reason.

This outcome was the result of a mistake. This outcome was entirely due to the fact that he had let himself get too complacent - too adjusted to the airbender’s style. Duck, dodge, evade wherever he could. Deflect each blow that came his way. He never fought back. Never went on the offensive. The man simply turned tail and ran, avoiding every attack that came his way.

Crowley had attacked with the full expectation that his opponent would dodge, or deflect, or snuff the blaze out. By this point, he hadn’t even really expected to see any other sort of bending. It was clear to him that this man, if he was the Avatar, was keeping that secret close to his chest. A smart move, on his part, but one that didn’t much matter to Crowley. He was confident he would best this man in the end. There was only so far he could run. Only so many attacks he could redirect. Victory would come, in time.

Or so he thought.

Now, as he tumbled through the air, quickly surrounded by a thick cloud of fog, Crowley realized just how mistaken he had been. If he had anticipated any possibility of the man fighting back, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If he had foreseen the anger and the _hate_ in the airbender’s sky blue eyes, the firebender might have been able to spare himself this horrible fate. But he hadn’t. He’d let their previous interaction completely dictate how he’d approached this one and the experience had been like night and day. 

There was nothing he could do. Crowley was falling and there was no way to catch himself. No way to float back up to the ledge or teleport himself to somewhere safe. He couldn’t sprout wings and fly off into the sunset or glide gently down to the deepest part of the ravine. It was a surefire certainty that he was going to die, and there was nothing in his power he could to save himself.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t hell bent on trying.

Immediately, Crowley’s arms and legs were out, catching on the wind and slowing his descent. The man swung his head around rapidly in both directions, looking for something he could grab onto. Something he could use to break his fall. Brief moments passed where he caught a glimpse of an ivory stone tower or the sharp face of a cliff, but the fog quickly swallowed it back up again, obscuring the object from his sight.

One deep breath in and then the firebender was launching himself toward what he thought was the nearest wall. He pivoted, hoping the jets of flame pouring from his feet would slow his descent if he oriented them toward the ground. He wobbled for a moment, banking to the left a bit, but didn’t seem to slow in his fall. If anything, he seemed to speed up the slightest bit, now that his body was vertical and there was less surface for the air to catch itself on. 

Heart in his throat, the firebender tried to think of something - anything that might stop the inevitable end to this tale. Panic was starting to creep in as the seconds seemed to stretch on for eternity. The fire at his feet spluttered and died and Crowley felt his stomach lurch as the sudden loss of force caused him to nearly flip upside-down.

Reflexively, he stuck his arms back out as he attempted to force the panic down and breathe again. There could be no firebending without proper breath. He had to get control of himself or this inevitable demise really would be inevitable. He would not find a way out this time.

Closing his eyes, Crowley tried to block everything else out. He blocked out the thick fog that obscured his view. He blocked out the rushing wind in his ear and the images of what it might feel like when he hit the ground. He would have blocked out thoughts of his final moments too, if he’d had any. Thoughts of friends or family that might miss him when he was gone. Crowley hardly thought Bealz or Dagon fell into the category of ‘friends’ and he barely had any family to write home about. At least, not anymore.

Pain erupted across his shoulder, shooting up his neck and down his left arm. Crowley cried out and reached up with his remaining appendage, sword still in hand, ready to cut himself free from the force that had so rudely dislocated his shoulder.

“Stop. Struggling,” a voice above him grunted, Amber eyes flicked up and Crowley saw a flash of bright orange. The wing of a glider. He’d never actually seen one in use before. What was the airbender still doing here? Why hadn’t he flown away by now? Had their situations been reversed, it was what Crowley would have done. He would have made a break for it and left the other man to his fate, and yet this airbender was putting himself in harm’s way. To what? To  _ save _ Crowley? “Or you’ll take us both down.”

Despite his instincts to do the opposite, Crowley froze, biting down on his lip to help distract himself from the pain. Tears pricked at his eyes and he forced them back down. Forced himself to look around instead, at the shapes slowly starting to form through the thick fog. Thanks to the other man’s quick actions and impeccable bending skills, loathe as he was to admit it, his descent had been halted with the temple speyres just out of reach. He didn’t know much about airbending, and certainly didn’t know how a glider was operated, but he hoped that the simple fact this man had grabbed onto him meant he would be able to lift them back up to safety.

A dark shape loomed in front of them, suddenly visible through the swirling fog. Crowley felt himself tense, his voice momentarily catching in his throat. Oh, this was going to hurt. This was going to hurt a lot.

“Cliff!” Crowley shouted at the exact same moment a violent gust of wind came crashing into them from below. It lifted them several feet into the air, the golden speyres of the lowest reaching towers finally in view. Wind pummeled his eyes, drawing forth tears as the man fought to keep his eyes open. He would be a fool to close them now, with his life literally hanging from his enemy’s grasp. 

The pair hit the ground hard, Crowley’s hand slipping from the airbender’s grasp as he tumbled several times over. Stone tore at his elbows and knees, ripping through the fabric and scratching up his skin. The pain was nothing compared to the aching in his left arm. It was throbbing, burning like it was on fire and Crowley rolled on his side in an attempt to relieve the pressure. 

Amber eyes flicked upward. A few paces away, Crowley saw the airbender skid to a halt, still standing, the glider lifted up over his head. A groan escaped his mouth, not at the pain this time, but at the simple fact that the other man had remained on his feet while Crowley lay here in a battered heap. Of course he had. Crowley had been a fool to expect anything less. At the sound, the other man turned, fixing his deep blue eyes on the firebender’s face.

“Oh dear,” the arbender murmured, deep wrinkles forming on his brow as his lips twisted downward in a frown. “Are you hurt?”

“What?” Crowley’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t have heard the man right. Crowley had attacked him twice over the span of just a few days and this man was asking him if  _ he _ was alright? Impossible.

Shifting his good arm underneath himself, Crowley propped himself up, eyes flicking to the airbender’s worn black shoes as he hurried forward. A quick glance up revealed the action was not done with malicious intent, but instead one of caution and concern. A few seconds later and the man was kneeling by his side, fingers lightly tracing over his neck and down his arm to assess the injury.

“I’ve dislocated your shoulder,” he murmured and Crowley was at a loss for words. What was happening? This man was here, taking responsibility for inadvertently hurting Crowley in his attempt to save him. He could have said that Crowley had been the one to injure himself, but he hadn’t. He’d very clearly stated that it was his fault. Why? Why was he still here? Why was he kneeling by Crowley’s side? Why had this man jumped off that cliff to save him?

Why was he looking at Crowley so intensely right now? Those blue eyes piercingly bright in the tower shade that surrounded them. Almost as bright as the startling tattoo upon his forehead, out in the open for anyone to see. Crowley’s stomach clenched as he took in the sight of the intense blue upon the other man’s light skin. He’d never been this close to an airbender before, but now that the man’s face was mere inches from his own, Crowley noted that the tattoos were not single blocks of blue ink like he’d originally believed. They were a galaxy of intricate designs. Swirls and patterns formed so tightly together that from a distance, it looked like one solid object. The man found himself staring at the designs so intensely, he let his mouth hang open, just slightly, wondering just what these tattoos meant. Were there secret messages that lay deep within them? Did all airbenders bear the exact same marks, or was each pattern different? So many questions bubbled up inside the man and he fought to hold them back. No point in asking them now. He would probably never find the answers, and he certainly shouldn’t care if he did. Discovering the deeper meanings of Air Nomad traditions was not what he’d signed up for, after all.

“Hold still,” the airbender was saying when Crowley’s attention returned to the scene around him. He frowned, feeling a warmth around his wrist that felt strange. Out of place, but surprisingly not unwelcome. Amber eyes shifted down to the contact and Crowley was met with the sight of a single hand covered almost entirely by a dark grey glove. The ends had been cut off, leaving room for his fingers to poke through but obscuring everything else. Those fingers were touching him now, wrapping around the lower part of his arm, right above his wrist, in an almost tender manner. 

“Hey,” he began, caution edging into his voice. “What exactly do you think you’re - “

The question was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream coming from his own mouth as the airbender tugged on his arm and pain erupted from his shoulder all the way across his neck and halfway down his back. Crowley violently tugged his arm away and the airbender released him immediately, watching with a slight smile as he scooted farther away.

“Ngk!” the firebender grunted, sitting up and reaching over with his good arm to cradle the other one. “That  _ hurt. _ ”

“A momentary pain,” was his only response. Crowley watched as the airbender got to his feet, taking several steps to the side until he was standing out on the edge of the platform, looking down into the fog below. In his hand, the glider had been folded up, taking on the appearance of a normal staff, although Crowley now understood the difference. “One that will fade quickly, if you give it the chance.”

He spoke as if he understood what sensations Crowley was experiencing right now and that very fact unnerved the firebender. He couldn’t go about  _ empathizing _ with this man. His job was to find out if he was the Avatar, and if he was, bring him to Prince Azulon and Fire Lord Sozin. Crowley couldn’t let this man’s bizarre actions stray him from his course. For all he knew, the airbender could be putting forth some kind of front. A ploy to get Crowley to let down his guard so he could escape, never to be found again. The man had said so himself, that he just wanted to be left alone. And what a perfect way to get the firebender to do just that.

Well, Crowley wasn’t going to stand for this. He wasn’t about to let this man swoop in, save his life, and then fly off into the sunset without an explanation. Tentatively, Crowley lowered his injured arm to the ground and used it to help lift himself up to a kneeling position. To his surprise, instead of a sharp pain radiating down his left side, Crowley was met with only a slight twinge in the affected area.

“Why did you do that?” He asked, unable to keep the questions at bay. He had to know. Even if he didn’t believe the other man’s answer, he had to hear what it would be. “Why did you save me?”

The airbender turned his gaze back on Crowley, and in it, the man saw eyes filled with sorrow and pain. For a moment, Crowley’s heart seized in his chest as he watched the other man’s chin quiver. Watched his shoulders sag and his fists clench at his side. In that moment, the firebender almost felt guilty for everything that had transpired these past few days. 

As soon as that thought entered his mind, Crowley’s jaw clenched reflexively and he pushed it away. This was exactly what the airbender wanted him to do. That’s how they tricked you - how they had tricked the entire world. They paraded around as these peace-loving, kind-hearted people. Got you to let your guard down. And that’s when they would strike. 

“Have you not experienced enough death to last a lifetime? I know I have.”

And then he was gone. With the snap of his wrist, the glider’s wide orange wings sprung out and the man was pushing off from the ledge. Crowley’s breath caught in his chest, eyes widening as he watched, unable to move. He expected the man to fall, for the glider to disappear into the fog, but it didn’t. Instead, a gust of air materialized out of nowhere, blowing the fog all around as the man rose higher and higher into the sky. 

Crowley remained there, kneeling on the cool ancient stone of the temple, until the airbender disappeared above the cliff and out of sight. Only then did he pull himself to his feet, dusting off his torn and tattered clothes as he did so. His shoulder still twinged a bit, but the airbender had been right. The pain was fading, and much quicker than he thought it would. 

What else had the man been right about? He hadn’t said much to Crowley, but the words that had emerged from his mouth lingered in the firebender’s mind.  _ I just want to be left alone. Are you hurt? Have you not experienced enough death to last a lifetime? _

_ I know I have. _

Crowley tried to shake it off, focusing his attention on anything else but the fact that he’d allowed this airbender to get away for a second time. What was he going to do now? The other man had a glider now, and while it was certainly a dangerous tool to use, if he was smart about it, the airbender could travel great distances and no one would be able to track him. If he traveled at night, flying high above the cloud layer, he would be practically undetectable. There was no way Crowley was going to find him now. He had no clue where the airbender was going next or what his ultimate destination was. The only thing Crowley knew was that he would not be going back to Omashu, and he certainly wouldn’t be visiting any of the air temples anytime soo - 

His thought cut out halfway through as a pair of amber eyes landed on a thin strip of fabric lying in a heap not too far away from where the airbender had originally landed. Frowning, Crowley walked over to it and squatted down, picking the garment up with one hand and holding it out in front of him.

It was a headband. A green and gold embroidered headband, both ends scrunched where it had obviously been tied for some time. He’d seen this before, Crowley was sure of it. Fastened around the airbender’s forehead, hiding the tip of the arrow that constantly peeked through the ends of his fluffy blonde curls. This was the very same headband he’d been wearing the previous day when Crowley had ambushed him at the cottage - the same headband that had been worn that night he’d first been spotted in Omashu. 

A slow grin began to creep its way across Crowley’s face. It was as if the universe was actively producing ways for them to come together. First, the random spotting in Omashu. Then, Crowley just happened to guess not only where the airbender might go next, but had gotten lucky enough to choose the correct temple. And now, he was gifted with a single, ordinary piece of cloth. A piece of cloth that had been attached to this airbender’s head for no less than two straight weeks. Worn over his tattoos every time he left the safety of his home, and perhaps more if he was paranoid enough. And Crowley thought that he just might be.

This was it. This was the one thing in all the world that he could use to find the airbender again. The universe had given him another chance and Crowley was determined not to mess things up a third time. He would find this airbender and make him prove, once and for all, if he was the Avatar.

All he had to do was find himself something, or  _ someone _ who could use this headband to track the airbender down. And luckily enough for him, Crowley knew exactly where to look. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday everyone!
> 
> Sorry this chapter is a bit later than expected. I think the next few updates are going to be a bit more spread out (no further apart than a week, I promise). My husband and I are closing on our new house on Friday and then we have to move. It's all very exciting! But also eats up a lot of my writing time. I'm hoping to have some time at the beginning of this week to work on the next few chapters and get ahead, but no promises.
> 
> Something I saw another fic author do on their last update that I thought was really cool was to do a fic rec. There are so many wonderful stories and artists in this fandom that deserve their work to be seen, so from here on out, I am going to be recommending either a fic I've read and loved, or an author (if I've read most or all of their works) for you all to check out if you feel so inclined.
> 
> First up is the amazingly talented Get_Wrexed. I first stumbled across their Harry Potter AU (A Kind of Magic) back in October and instantly fell in love. Turns out, while that was happening, they were reading one of my fics (The Stars Walk Backward, for those of you who know it) and felt the same way about my writing. Since then, the two of us have become the closest of friends and spend many hours of the day tossing ideas back and forth about our stories. I highly recommend both their fics on Ao3. A Kind of Magic was where I first fell in love with their writing (how can you not love Crowley and Aziraphale as professors at Hogwarts?) and Stitch Me Up (a Human AU where Crowley is a nurse and Aziraphale a doctor in the same hospital) has quickly wormed its way into my heart with its clever dialogue and wonderful character/relationship building (not only with Aziraphale and Crowley, but with Beelzebub and Gabriel too!)
> 
> If you have the time, please check out their work here!
> 
> AKOM: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689433  
> SMU: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157691
> 
> Up next, we're going to follow Aziraphale on his way to his final destination (where could he be going?) and run into a gaggle of fun characters along the way. I'm so excited to introduce them all to you!


	13. The Freedom Fighters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief description of a panic attack (toward the beginning - in paragraphs 7 and 8)

The thing Aziraphale missed most about flying were the views. When he clung to his glider, coaxing the winds to take him wherever he wanted to go, the world seemed so vast - so beautiful. He could see for miles. From up here, everything looked so peaceful. From up in the skies, it was almost possible to forget all the hatred and the greed and the fighting going on below.

Almost.

Aziraphale had to be careful when and where he flew. He couldn’t head directly north from here - the flight would be too long, too tiring for him to do in one trip and too cold with the current clothes on his back. He would surely drop out of the sky from pure exhaustion, landing somewhere out at sea where he would inevitably lose himself forever. Instead, he headed east, taking to the air only at night, when the skies were dark and no one would think to look for him up amongst the stars.

Even at night, the views beneath him were spectacular. He stuck close to the sea, watching as the heavens were reflected in the deep, dark waters. Each night that he took flight created a different design upon the choppy surface as, bit by bit, the moon began to grow in size and shape, illuminating more of the beautiful landscapes beneath him,

A bright orange light shining below caught Aziraphale’s attention one night as he soared high above the northernmost part of the Earth Kingdom. He turned his head to the north and saw a patch of warm light in the darkness. It flickered, like a candle, being blown about in the wind. For a moment, he was reminded of warm summer nights, sitting in the safety of his room, a book on his lap, the light of a nearby candle casting shadows in the room as the other boys slept. 

And then that moment passed and the warm feeling in his stomach turned to ice. That light down there flickering back and forth reminded him of fire because that’s exactly what it was.  _ Fire _ . A great, big blossoming fire, spreading out rapidly from a central point several miles from the ocean, ripping through the trees like they were little more than dust in the wind. A great big fire that was heading straight for a village.

Aziraphale would have liked to have said he leapt into action in that moment. He would have liked to have said he rocketed down to the ground to do what he could to help those people, but that would have been an outright lie. As soon as Aziraphale realized what was happening - as soon as he realized that people’s homes were being surrounded by the inferno, he froze. His eyes went wide and his lungs forgot how to breathe. The airbender was violently transported back to the very worst day of his life. He was clinging to a tree branch, watching as a brilliant comet streaked by overhead. He was gasping for air as flames erupted out of nowhere, swallowing the temple whole in a show of force and destruction the likes of which Aziraphale had never seen. He was running, tears streaking down his cheeks as smoke filled his lungs and screams flooded his ears and he was blinded by flashes of lightning piercing through the clear blue morning sky.

Lungs burning, limbs trembling, Aziraphale tried to fight the feelings off. He tried to bring himself back to the present, but he couldn't. He was trapped in the chaos. The smoke and the lightning and the screaming and the dying. The total destruction of everything he loved. Completely gone over the course of a single morning. He was alone, forever being hunted. He would never find happiness again, Aziraphale was sure of it. They would never let him. 

Shouts in the distance brought him back. In his head, trapped in his memories, they were screams of sorrow and despair. Here, they sounded more like commands. Like someone was barking orders, taking charge. Directing people where to go and what to do. Trying to help as best they could.

Aziraphale blinked, the wind rushing past his face at an alarming rate, alerting him that something was wrong. The fire, which had been a mere flicker before, had grown in size to nearly three times as large as it had been. How was that possible? These forests were dense, yes, but lush and well-watered. They should not be catching this quickly unless…

The man reacted instantly, bending the air around him to his will once more, lifting the glider out of the nose dive it had fallen into. His heart took off, thrumming in his chest as if it could escape the confines just by vibrating quickly enough. Fists clenched around the ancient wood as Aziraphale felt his throat close with emotion, eyes brimming with tears. The glider leveled off and the airbender stared down the blaze through blurred vision, his whole body shaking. He needed to land  _ now.  _ Before he forgot himself again and fell to his death.

As the glider drew closer to the ground, Aziraphale banked to one side, circling around to the east side of the village, as far away from the fire and the smoke as he could manage. Screams sounded at the edge of his hearing and it was all the airbender could do to block them out and focus his attention on the scene below. The fire had reached the outer edges of the western side of town now, blaze catching on the edges of the thatched roofs, spreading faster than it had through the forest. He could see figures moving in the streets. Mothers grabbing children by the hands, tugging them forward away from danger. Earthbenders rushing in the opposite direction, heading toward the inferno, in an attempt to battle it whatever way they could.

A few silhouettes caught his attention as Aziraphale circled overhead. A lone woman stood in the center of the village, her face directed toward the angry orange glow inching closer and closer with every second. From here, Aziraphale could see her long dark hair, half pulled up in a knot atop her head, the bottom half blowing wildly in the breeze. Her arms were extended gracefully, hands bent in a way that reminded him of his own bending stances, eyes fixed ahead as if waiting for something.

Next to her, not three paces away, stood a young boy. He looked to be no older than ten or eleven. In the firelight, Aziraphale could see he was dressed in stark contrast to the woman. She was obviously Water Tribe, with thick dark pants shoved into her fur lined boots and a long sleeved blue tunic that bore the familiar mark of the Northern Tribe. This boy was barefoot, wearing ragged tan pants that barely reached down to his knees and a forest green vest that even from up in the air, Azriaphale could see had been buttoned incorrectly. 

They seemed so out of place here, standing in the middle of an Earth Kingdom village, facing the onslaught of a forest fire intent on wiping them out, but after a moment longer, Aziraphale understood. The woman turned to say something to the boy and he rushed off, hands waving over his head as water streamed from a nearby well toward her. She caught it with ease, turning around in a graceful arc before redirecting the liquid toward the nearest rooftops while the boy rushed off to find more.

_ Waterbenders.  _ These two were waterbenders. Far from home, choosing to lend a hand however they could. Refusing to back down even in the midst of such danger. 

Something stirred inside him at that moment. He could have kept on flying, could have abandoned these people to whatever fate the universe had in store for them. It would certainly be safer for him to do so. Aziraphale still had his tattoos, could still be easily identified as an airbender. If he stopped now, there was a chance the Fire Nation could find him - or someone who worked for them. There were spies everywhere. Eyes in every crowd, ears in every dark corner of the world. Aziraphale would be much safer if he left, but these people would be much safer if he stayed.

That was what decided it, for him. There was no other choice to be made. He was going to have to land in the center of it all and do whatever he could to help. Aziraphale wasn’t about to let a single other person suffer the same fate he had. Not while he still had breath left in his body.

He touched down with light feet, spinning the glider above his head in a swift circle as the wings snapped shut once more. Looking around, Azziraphale saw that this part of the village had already been evacuated. Smoke billowed from the recently caught rooftops as the waterbender standing several feet in front of him did her best to douse the blaze, sending billows of black smoke up into the air as the two elements collided.

Another child ran past him, this one also dressed in muted colors, her dark curls dancing about in tight ringlets like a halo around her. Before Aziraphale could utter a single word of warning, the girl halted in the middle of the street, striking a powerful stance and stomping her foot against the beaten dirt path. Immediately a cloud of dirt as thick as the darkness around them rose up into the air, heading straight for the flames on either side of her. It smothered them, placing layer upon layer of earth overtop until the fire spluttered and died, leaving behind a single, solitary puff of smoke.

“Pepper, watch your left!” the woman shouted and Aziraphale saw, to his horror, several branches from the nearest tree breaking off and falling on top of the house to her left, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, as they tumbled down the sloped roof directly toward the child. 

“I’ve got it!” another voice called from around the corner and Aziraphale pivoted just in time to see a stocky young man rush by faster than he thought possible. He ran up to the side of the nearest building, leapt off from the ground until he was dangling from the edge of the roof by a single, muscular bicep, and then launched himself off the surface to jump in front of the younger girl, hands extended in the direction of the incoming projectile. Aziraphale’s eyes widened as the flames simply vanished from view, branches turning into nothing but harmless sticks as they vaulted over the edge, one landing on top of her head while the other fell harmlessly beside her.

“You could have at least tried to catch them!” the girl called up to her savior as he hung from the building beside her. He dangled there, elbows up on the edge of the thatched roof, the sticks and straw still burning not a few feet in front of him. Aziraphale didn’t understand how he wasn’t scared out of his wits. Why had he jumped in front of the blaze like that, just to get stuck before another inferno?

The girl, Pepper, turned toward the older man, hands reaching up to brush the bits of charred stick from her curls. They hit the ground with a soft ‘clunk’ smoke already dissipating, as if it had never been there to begin with.

“A little boost here, Pepper, would be appreciated,” the man grunted, trying to haul himself up. From this angle, Aziraphale couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to in order to tell she was highly amused by his antics. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have gotten back down had he wanted to. The building wasn’t that tall. The fall wouldn’t hurt him, Aziraphale was sure of it. And yet he dangled there from the edge of the roof, legs scrabbling against the side of the building. 

“What?” Pepper teased, positioning herself a few paces behind him. “Big, strong man like you can’t lift himself up on his own?”

The man turned around and stuck his tongue out at her. Actually stuck his tongue out in the middle of a firefight. Aziraphale was aghast. What was he doing? Why were there children here? They should be evacuating with the rest of the town, not sticking around to play hero.

“You two quit messing around!” the waterbender called again, redirecting her stream of water from the recently drenched building to the inferno still raging at the edge of the village. “There will be time enough for that later. Focus on the task at hand.”

Without another word, Pepper stomped the ground at her feet, producing a large platform that shot out of the ground and rose up until it connected with the man’s feet. Aziraphale watched as he immediately used the surface to launch himself upward, arms extended in front as if he was going to banish the fire with a wave of his hands. And then he  _ did _ and Aziraphale’s heart stopped in his chest.

A firebender? Here? Working together with benders of the other nations to try and save a village from burning to the ground? What was going on?

“See?” the stout man asked, turning to face the woman who was rapidly running out of water to draw from the well. “What did I tell you, Anathema? Piece of - “

Suddenly, the air behind Aziraphale stirred. He spun around and saw, to his horror, the eastern side of the village suddenly erupting into flames. Aziraphale’s stomach sank to the ground. This wasn’t some random forest fire he’d stumbled upon. This was a targeted attack made by the Fire Nation. Or, at the very least, bandits or bounty hunters that were firebenders.

“Brian!” the Northern Water Tribe woman called out, an edge of concern creeping into her voice. “I’m going to need more water.”

A voice echoed from down the street. “I’m trying, Anathema. I swear, I’m trying.”

“You two stay here,” the man on the roof ordered. A loud thud sounded as he hopped down to join the rest of them on the ground. “Keep it from advancing as much as you can. I’ll go do what I can for Newton and the others.”

Aziraphale’s heart was racing inside his chest. There were people out there. Innocent villagers that had likely been awoken from their sleep and dragged out into the night with no time to gather their essential belongings or anything else of value. His eyes watered as the smoke began to pour in from all sides. The fire was pressing in on them now, closing in faster than he thought possible. Were the firebenders still out there, coaxing the fire closer? Or had they started the blaze and then made an expeditious retreat before the earthbenders native to the town arrived?

“Hey,” a hand on his shoulder caused Aziraphale to spin wildly around. Blue eyes widened as he found himself face to face with the firebender from earlier. The one who was  _ helping. _ “Are you a resident of this village?” the man asked, then plowed along before he could open his mouth to answer. “You need to find your family. Get them to safety. We’ll handle this.”

He sounded much more confident than he looked. Aziraphale recognized the glimmer of hopelessness in his deep brown eyes. It was a familiar look - one that he’d experienced himself, time and time again. 

“No - “ the airbender started. “I’m not - I - “ He paused, taking a deep breath while simultaneously trying to still his rapidly beating heart before he had another panic attack, or passed out completely. “I’m here to help.”

The man looked at him for a moment, as if taking him in. The worn clothes, bag slung over his back, plain staff in hand. What must he look like to this man? A runaway? Refugee? Someone who didn’t belong. Nobody of importance - and certainly not a hero like these people were.

And then his eyes drifted up to Aziraphale’s forehead, hard expression softening as tears began to reflect in his eyes. Aziraphale was torn between allowing tears of his own to fall, and running away before this man memorized his face beneath the flickering light around them. He  _ knew _ . Of course he knew. Aziraphale had lost his headband at some point during the scuffle at the Western Air Temple, and without it, his identity would never be questioned.

A hand emerged in his line of sight. Aziraphale’s blue eyes flickered down momentarily and he saw, to his astonishment, that this stranger had extended it to him in welcome. “Glad to have you. We can use all the help we can get.”

Aziraphale nodded his head in affirmation, shaking the hand quickly as a silent, unspoken understanding passed between them. Then the man was off, racing down the street to help whoever else was down there. Based on the situation as it had been when he first arrived, Aziraphale assumed that those who had been evacuating had headed that direction. Fear began to claw at the edges of his mind and the airbender gritted his teeth, forcing it back down.

He had to do something. Had to distract himself or he was going to break down. Spinning back around, Aziraphale’s eyes landed on the waterbender. A rapidly dwindling pool of water was hovering over her head, spewing out in random directions toward the nearest of the flames. What could he do to help? Aziraphale wasn’t a firebender. He couldn’t snuff out the flames. He wasn’t an earthbender. He couldn’t bury the fire to put it out. He wasn’t a waterbender, he couldn’t douse the blaze or run and find some more water for them to use.

What could he do? Fire fed on air, just as it fed on dry grass and tinder. If he stepped forward to lend his bending to this nightmare, wouldn’t he only make it worse?

“Brian!” Anathema called a second time. “Brian, what have you got for me?”

The boy rounded the corner, his face smudged with what Aziraphale assumed to be either dirt or ash, or maybe a combination of both. His dark brown eyes were alight with worry as he rushed over to the woman’s side, brown hair sticking out in all directions.

“I can’t find anything else,” he stated as Pepper stomped again, creating another cloud of dirt to fling at the oncoming fire. The blaze flickered momentarily, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing they could do here would be enough. Aziraphale had seen this before. He knew how this ended. “The closest water is the ocean and that’s miles away.” 

Anathema flung the remaining water at the nearest rooftop, dousing the entire thing and making it unlikely to catch again anytime soon. Water was the key here. If they had enough water, they could put this whole thing out, but according to the boy, Brian, there was none to be found. If only they had a well deep enough to hold what they needed. Or a river running by the south side of the village. A koi pond or a waterfall or...

...or a rainstorm.

In a flash, his glider was out and Aziraphale was running toward the pair. Pepper was kicking up cloud after cloud of dust, sending it forward in waves to halt the oncoming heat, but they were surrounded. The fire had spread quickly across the dried out rooftops. And now, with another attack from the east, the four remaining benders were slowly being surrounded on all sides. He had to act fast, or none of this would matter.

“I can get you there,” he breathed, skidding to a halt by their side. Both Anathema and the boy, Brian, turned to face him. Brian’s face appeared surprised to find a stranger in their midst, but was missing the characteristic shock of recognition that Anathema was currently trying very hard to hide. The airbender gestured to his glider, feeling his heart start to pound loudly in his ears. “We can get the water you need. Together.”

“Go.” Anathema pushed the boy forward closer to Aziraphale, her eyes darting over once to his glider, then back down to his face. She held his gaze for a moment, deep brown eyes conveying just how much trust she was placing in him in that moment. Here he was, this stranger - and airbender, no less - appearing out of nowhere, wanting to take away this child that obviously meant so much to her. True, this was a desperate situation, but Aziraphale recognized that as it stood, the three of them could still get away if they tried. They could turn tail and run and the village may be lost, but they would be alright.

“But - “ the boy protested as Aziraphale lifted the glider onto his back, squatting down so Brian could climb on. He was practically steered in the proper direction by Anathema as yet another dust cloud filled the air around them. “What about - ?”

“ _ Go _ ,” she urged him again. “Pepper and I will be fine.”

Brian’s legs squeezed firmly around Aziraphale’s waist as the boy’s hands found their way to the wings of the glider. Once he was secure, Aziraphale pushed off from the ground with as much force as he could muster, using the hot air around them to lift the pair up as fast as they could go until they were soaring over the inferno once more, the glistening of the ocean stars faint pinpoints of light out in the distance.

“That looks really bad,” a voice above his head murmured softly. Aziraphale turned his head to look and saw that the fire that had started on the eastern side of the village. It burned a bright angry orange, one that reminded him of that fateful day ten years ago. “I wish we had gotten here sooner.”

Aziraphale paused, surprised at the boy’s words. “This isn’t your village?”

“No.” Of course it wasn’t. This boy was a waterbender, though definitely not one from either the Northern or Southern Water Tribes. This was an Earth Kingdom village. He didn’t belong here, yet here he was. And not just him. Anathema, and Pepper, and the other man whose name Aziraphale hadn’t caught. Probably more, based on the way they’d been talking earlier. “We live in the forest. Travel around following the Fire Nation soldiers. Stopping them whenever we can.”

Fire Nation soldiers? This far north? Aziraphale found it difficult to believe, but then again, they were close to the coastline. Perhaps these exterior villages were an easier target than the bigger cities that lay inland. “Do they always attack like this, at night?” The airbender mused, not really expecting an answer. “I would have expected them to strike during the day, when their bending was stronger.”

The wind whistled by them as Aziraphale flew. Not only could flying offer Brian a better visual on the water he would be bending, but it also allowed them to travel much faster than they ever could on foot. A hike to the shores that normally might take them half an hour could be made in mere minutes if Aziraphale put enough force behind his bending.

“They do,” Brian responded quietly, almost in a distant sort of way. “They send in bandits and raiders at night and let them start the fires. Get them going big enough that we spend hours fighting them and the villagers are either gone by morning or too worn out to fight back when the soldiers arrive.”

He was distracted. Aziraphale could tell without looking at him. His voice sounded like his head was turned away, attention still focused on the eastern fire as they flew north toward the ocean. 

“Are there others of you?” the airbender asked quietly. “Your friends are out there too?”

Silence for a moment. Then a small voice piped up over the wind. “Yeah.” Aziraphale waited to see what he’d say next. “Adam. But he’s a bender. He’ll be alright. Wensleydale too. He’s smart. The smartest guy I know, but he can’t protect himself from this.”

The boy was afraid, that much was obvious. His friends were in danger and he was trying desperately to help, but he was only a child. He couldn’t be expected to bear the weight of this disaster on his shoulders. Not alone.

“We can stop it,” Aziraphale assured him, hoping the statement was a true one. “I know we can.” Blue eyes fixed themselves on the glistening dots below. “See that there? All the water you could want.” They banked to the right a bit to give Brian a view of both the water before them and the fires burning behind. 

“All you have to do is grab it.”

Another pause as the boy seemed to hesitate. Aziraphale tried not to rush him, but he couldn’t deny the anxiety starting to creep into the edges of his heart and mind. Even if they managed to save this village, he had no confidence it would help protect these people against what Brian said was coming next.

“I can’t carry that much,” he finally murmured, fists clenching around the glider’s wings. Aziraphale could feel the boy’s knuckles against his back, flexing back and forth as he fretted. “It won’t be enough.”

Once again, Aziraphale banked, circling down a bit closer to the starry waters and the waves crashing up against the rocky shoreline. If they’d had time, they could have gathered the earthbenders together to build a trench. The water would have practically moved itself, assuming they got the incline correctly, but they didn’t have that time. They didn’t have an army of earthbenders at their disposal. They had Aziraphale and Brian and that was it.

“It  _ will _ be enough,” Aziraphale encouraged. Optimism wasn’t necessarily the airbender’s strong suit, but with this, he was confident. One of the many things Aziraphale had learned as a young airbender was how to use his bending abilities to most efficiently get the job done. Air was a fluid, as much as water was. It liked to stay together, and over the years, he had learned how to best utilize that property. Their elements may be different, but the techniques he had learned may help them in this situation. In any case, it couldn’t hurt to try.

Water and air - how different could they really be?

“Water is fluid, just like air,” Aziraphale explained, making sure his voice was loud enough for the waterbender to hear, but not too loud they would call unwanted attention to themselves, in case there were still any raiders nearby. “It wants to stay together. All you need to do is coax it in the right direction and the rest of the work will be done for you.”

He heard the boy take a deep, shaky breath. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if I can’t move it far enough? What if - ”

Aziraphale interjected, cutting him off. He would have preferred this bit of the conversation to be done face to face, but with Brian on his back, soaring several dozen feet above the ground, that was an impossibility. “The worst that can happen is you fail, Brian,” he explained. “You can’t douse the fire and we grab your friends and get out of there. The villagers have all evacuated, yeah? No lives will be lost tonight.”

The boy still didn’t seem convinced. Aziraphale wished he could lift a hand to place it on Brian’s, but it was taking enough of his concentration as it was to keep them both aloft. “Houses can be rebuilt, Brian. There is nothing at stake here that can’t be fixed with time.”

For whatever reason, that seemed to do the trick. Aziraphale felt Brian’s hands leave the security of the glider’s frame, rising up to face the ocean below. In the darkness of the night, it was difficult to see at first, but Aziraphale’s heart leapt all the same as the first stream of water lifted up from the surface and started floating up toward them.

“Excellent job, my dear,” Aziraphale praised as he slowly turned them around, fixing their sights back on the flickering orange glow in the distance. “Just focus on the water. Keep your shoulders loose and your breath steady and just hold on. I’ll do the rest.”

And that was exactly what he did. Aziraphale flew them back toward the blaze as fast as he could manage without jolting Brian or disrupting his concentration in any way. He felt the cool air upon his face, sensing the air currents as they blew by, making sure to adjust for any minor change to keep them on a steady course.

As they approached, Aziraphale spotted Anathema and Pepper immediately. Somehow, the waterbender had gotten hold of a minute amount of water - likely from the drenched rooftops she’d already taken care of, and was currently using it as sparingly as possible to block the flames on the next street over as Pepper sent up cloud after cloud of dirt. A single shout in their direction caught Anathema’s attention, and even from up above, Aziraphale could see her relieved grin.

Immediately, she began to siphon off the water, spraying it in several directions at once, extinguishing the flames on several of the houses nearby. It wasn’t enough. The entire village was ablaze now, along with nearly half a mile of surrounding forest. If they wanted to save this village, two waterbenders wouldn’t be enough, even with the whole ocean at their disposal.

Luckily, Aziraphale had a plan. Instead of touching back on the ground, he coaxed the glider further. Seeming to sense his intention, Brian held onto the aerial river, keeping it flowing behind them as the airbender circled over the affected area, inching higher and higher as he went so that by the time they had returned to their original spot, they were flying just above the deep water below them. So close, Aziraphale could reach out and sink his fingertips into it, if he weren’t so afraid of losing control and tumbling them both out of the sky.

Over and over they flew, in a tight spiral from the center of the town, outward, until every inch of the fire was overshadowed by the ocean water. Aziraphale could only imagine what this scene must look like to the people below. Had they fled the area already? Or were they watching from a distance as a curtain of water hovered above their homes, suspended by a small boy and the airbender who was transporting him?

“Alright, Brian,” Aziraphale murmured, quietly so that only the two of them would hear. “Time to make it rain.”

He did exactly that. With one long release of breath, the boy perched on his back lowered one hand to his side and Aziraphale heard the pitter patter of raindrops against the ground below as bit by bit, the water he held fell back down to earth. Though most of the blaze was obscured from his sight, the gentle hiss of water striking intense heat filled the air as, slowly but surely, the fires disappeared from sight.

When the very last ember had been doused and the last droplet of water released from the sky, Aziraphale brought the pair down to the center of the village. Several figures were already gathered there. Some he recognized, like Pepper and Anathema. Others were new - a tall, gangly man with spectacles balanced precariously on his nose, and two more boys about the same age as Brian and Pepper, one with wild, unruly hair, and the other also sporting a pair of glasses.

“That was brilliant!” the crazy-haired boy cheered, letting out a whoop of excitement as Aziraphale touched down and Brian slid from his back to join his friends, eyes lingering slightly longer on the bespectacled boy’s face than on the one who was congratulating him on a job well done. “You stopped the fire, all on your own. I’ve never seen anything so amazing in my entire life.”

Aziraphale righted himself, folding the glider back into its staff configuration, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto his face. Brian stepped forward to join his friends as they congratulated themselves on their overwhelming victory. Slowly, the airbender’s eyes came to rest on the adults of the group. First to Anathema, and her kind, knowing smile. Graciously thanking him for everything he’d done without ever saying a word. Next, to the taller man, who had barely paid him a glance, choosing instead to keep his eyes on the four children, checking them over for any sign that something was wrong.

Finally, Aziraphale’s eyes drifted to the firebender. His deep brown eyes were leveled on Aziraphale, a wide smile upon his face. Immediately, the tension in the airbender’s entire body dissipated, just as the fires had moments ago. The man took a step forward and Aziraphale felt all other eyes turn to him. Chatter slowed to a whisper and then nothing at all as this man, who was clearly their leader, extended his hand in thanks to the airbender that had made this miracle possible.

“You saved the night,” the man declared. “Without you, we would have lost this village, so from all of us, thank you…”

He trailed off, a question entering his eyes. Above them, the moonlight shone down all around, piercing through the last remaining trails of smoke, reflecting off the puddles of water surrounding them. For the first time, Aziraphale realized that apart from himself, Brian, and Anathema, everyone else was drenched head to toe. An unfortunate side-effect of their makeshift rainstorm, but one they didn’t seem to mind in the least. 

“Aziraphale,” the airbender found himself supplying when he finally realized the man in front of him was waiting on his name. “My name is Aziraphale.”

“Kuzon,” the man replied, a smile spreading out across his face as Aziraphale took his hand and shook it promptly. A warm feeling of relief and joy came alight inside of him, spreading outward from the center of his chest all the way to his furthest extremities. He had done it. He had helped put out the fire. He had helped save all these people and their homes too. And what a feeling that was. 

“Welcome to the Freedom Fighters, Aziraphale.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and happy Tuesday! This chapter ended up a bit longer than my usual ones, but there was a lot of action going on and I didn't want to skip anything. We have a few more chapters of alternating POV/storyline, but I promise that Crowley and Aziraphale will end up interacting much more very soon. As soon as Crowley catches up for a third time (third time's the charm, after all, right?). I'll be working hard on the next chapter tonight and tomorrow morning and hope to have it out to you all by this coming weekend! You all are the best and I am soooo happy you are enjoying this story as much as I am <3 <3 <3 I love you all!
> 
> This chapter's fic rec goes to amdg2846 and their fic "Samson: A Duet" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252062). This is one of my very favorite 'E' rated fics. The imagery is gorgeous and made me entirely too emotional while reading it. It is such a sweet, sad story of a night spent together in Eden, followed by six thousand years of pining (my favorite!) that eventually results in a very happy ending <3 (basically my favorite recipe for a Good Omens fic). It is also inspired by one of my favorite songs, so no wonder why I love it so much.
> 
> I promise, for those of you who don't like the smutty stuff, not all of my recs will have higher ratings. I'm not much of a fan, myself, and my favorite parts about these stories are the lyrical prose and deep emotions they stir up inside me. Most of the time, I skim over the sexy bits to get to what I consider the "good stuff". Next update, I'll shoot for something 'G' or 'T' :)


	14. Following the Trail

“You must be out of your mind!” the man nearly shouted at Crowley as the firebender leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he looked on with amusement clearly written on his face. It was a dingy sort of place, with dust covering the surfaces, curtains drawn tight across the windows. Of course, the atmosphere made sense for what it was. Crowley didn’t know what kind of place would  _ want _ to attract attention when it was the front for an illegal exotic animal trade. It was much safer to scoot by under the pretense of a local stable and tack shop. Hardly anyone thought to dig any deeper under the surface they interacted with, and that was just how the owner, Sandalphon, liked it.

“You actually think I’m just going to hand one of my creatures over to you? Just because you asked?”

Crowley grinned in an almost feral way as he pushed off from the wall and took a step closer. “I don’t think, Sandy” he murmured, knowing just how far his voice carried across the room. “I  _ know  _ you are going to hand one over to me, without a fuss. Not because I asked you to, but because Fire Lord Sozin gave me a task. And I need that shirshu to complete it.”

The other man scoffed, crossing his arms in a much less intimidating way than Crowley had moments before. “He’s not my Fire Lord.”

Technically, he was right. They were in Earth Kingdom territory now, and Sandalphon was an Earth Kingdom citizen. There was no law that said he had to follow the Fire Lord’s orders, and no consequences if he didn’t. But that didn’t mean that Sozin had no sway here. The war had been waging for over ten years now, and the Fire Nation was winning. It was a slow process, but there was no doubt that they were pulling ahead. Their technology was far more advanced than any of the other nations, and though they were not as large as the Earth Kingdom, what they lacked in numbers, the Fire Nation made up for in solidarity. They were a united front, where the other nations were a divided mess.

“You’re right,” Crowley shrugged and couldn’t help the smirk that made its way across his face as the other man visibly flinched. “You’re a good, law abiding Earth Kingdom citizen. I’m sure if some rabble-rousing firebender came in here and set the place ablaze, your king would be quick to send in his soldiers to take care of the problem.”

It was a lie. Crowley knew it was a lie and more importantly, Sandalphon knew it was a lie. Crowley watched with satisfaction as the other man grimaced. It was no secret that Ba Sing Se had been less than active in the war so far. In fact, to his knowledge, not a single soldier from the great walled city had been sent to the front to aid in the war. They were biding their time, waiting for the Fire Nation to knock on their door. Which meant that this rotund, poor excuse for a man had no grounds to stand on.

“Right this way, sir,” Sandalphon practically growled, forcing a smile that revealed his gold plated front tooth. Crowley grinned at him in the most satisfied, smug way he knew how and followed the older man through the back door of the shop and down into a cellar. One that was practically hidden from view until Sandalphon happened to step on the correct floorboard, revealing a handle for the trapdoor. 

Torches lined the stairs as they descended and Crowley was immediately met with the stench of feces and mildew, so strong that he would have lost his lunch had he bothered to stop and eat it. Instead, the firebender gritted his teeth and tried to focus his attention on the man’s lumbering gait as opposed to letting it wander to the rows upon rows of bar covered caverns lining the walls in the underground tunnel. He had expected this. The moment Crowley had decided he needed to find a shirshu to track down the airbender, he knew Sandalphon was the one that would be able to help him out. He ran the most successful, albeit illegal, exotic animal trade in all the four nations.

Just because it was successful, didn’t mean that it was a pleasant place to be, or that the animals in his possession were well taken care of. Crowley tried not to look at them while he passed by. Plausible deniability and all that, should any Earth Kingdom law enforcement come poking around. Even if he didn’t look at them with his eyes, Crowley could still sense them. It was difficult for him to tune out the heat signatures from their bodies, all crammed together like this, but that didn’t mean the firebender didn’t try.

“You have got to be kidding me…” Crowley muttered to himself as they approached a pen toward the back of the hall. He looked inside the dimly lit cage, trying to get a glimpse of the creature, but it was shrouded in shadows. For a moment, the firebender thought about producing a flame to send in to get a better look, but didn’t want to frighten the thing with a sudden addition of heat in such a small, enclosed space. Shirshu’s were practically blind, seeing more with their nose than any other sense. Like most animals, they didn’t like fire. Most were unnerved by the substance and its inexplicable heat. Fire alone didn’t produce a scent, so it was impossible for them to sense until they were right up next to it. Crowley had heard that sometimes, if the fire was actually burning something, shirshus didn’t mind interacting with it, but fire from a bender greatly upset them. For good reason.

“Don’t you have one that’s a bit bigger?” he asked as the creature curled up in the cage lifted its head and turned its ugly, star-shaped nose in his direction. Crowley watched as the ends of it began to twitch back and forth, signaling the beast was honing in on his scent. “One that has a bit more training and would actually be useful in tracking someone down.”

The man before him guffawed, his obtuse belly shaking with the force. “Come now, Crowley. Surely you know none of these wretched things are trained.”

Something tugged at the edge of Crowley’s pants mid grimace. He turned around to find a small turtleduck hovering at his feet, nibbling at the half-tied lace dangling from his boots as it settled in to sit on his foot. The firebender took a half step away, shaking the creature off, and turned his attention back to the cavern in front of him. The adolescent shirshu was still curled up in the corner, but was now looking over at Crowley with as much interest as a creature that didn’t have eyes could show. 

“You wanted one, this is the only one I’ve got handy,” Sandalphon announced, tooth flashing in the firelight. “A bout of blight came in a few months back and nearly knocked out half my supplies. This one was the only one of its littermates to make it.”

“And the mother?” Crowley insisted, his annoyance only growing more. What was he supposed to do with a baby shirshu? Even if it was the strongest of its littermates, an adolescent shirshu had only a fraction of the abilities it would possess as an adult. How could Crowley be sure it would be able to follow the airbender’s trail from the ground? How toxic was its saliva? Could it cause paralysis with a single point of contact? He certainly couldn’t ride it like an ostrich horse or a komodo rhino. How was he supposed to catch up with the airbender, even if he was able to track his scent?

“Died during childbirth. So sad, really.”

Something about the way he said those words caused Crowley’s stomach to twist unpleasantly. He sighed, looking over at the deer dog sized creature that was now slowly creeping over toward the bars across the cavern entrance. He noticed that it stuck to the far wall, putting as much distance between itself and Sandalphon as possible while it came to investigate.

“Here’s the deal,” Crowley announced, feeling a sudden wave of protectiveness come over him, though he would never admit to it. Amber eyes glanced down as, once again, the cageless turtleduck began to settle in at his feet. What was with this thing? He had the sudden urge to punt it down the hall, just to see how far the creature would slide, but at the last second thought better of it. If this animal was living down here, it already had a rough enough go as it was. No need for him to make things worse. “I’m going to give you half of what I said I would, and you’re going to throw in one of your ostrich horses from upstairs.”

Before Sandalphon could interrupt with his protest, Crowley plowed on. “You know as well as I do that you’d be lucky to get half of  _ that _ for an adolescent shirshu. And sure, you could take the time and raise it to be full grown and probably make more. But that takes time. And patience.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch of coins, tossing it up and down in the air as his serpentine eyes leveled on the other man. “You and I both know you’d rather have the quick cash.”

Sure enough, Sandalphon’s hand darted out, catching the bag mid toss. With a sneer, the man stepped forward and unlocked the metal door, the grating sound causing the shirshu to jump back in alarm and retreat to the far corner of its pen.

“Take any of the ones upstairs but the spotted one,” Sandalphon muttered, referring to the ostrich horses Crowley had seen in the stables on his way in. Crowley nodded as he took a step in. The shirshu looked up at him, nose twitching wildly for a few moments as it tested its surroundings. He waited silently to see what it would do. Several years back, Crowley had worked with an adult one of these and knew from experience their saliva had enough venom in it to fully paralyze a Sandalphon-sized man for several hours.

This one, however? Serpentine amber eyes looked it over cautiously as the small creature uncurled from its protective ball and cautiously took a step toward him. Well, it was difficult to tell, and Crowley wasn’t exactly looking forward to experimenting. Not here, at any rate.

“Come on,” the firebender muttered, begrudgingly, knowing full well the creature couldn’t understand him. “What say you and I get on out of here?”

A few more seconds ticked by as the shirshu crept closer. Crowley squatted down and held out his hand for the creature to sniff, anticipating the worst. When the shirshu did nothing but coo quietly to itself and cock its head to look up at him, the firebender braced himself and reached out, doing his best to wrap his arms around it as gently as possible. With a louder than necessary grunt, Crowley rose to his feet, newly acquired shirshu braced against both his arms, front paws laying across his shoulder. To his immediate displeasure, the firebender noticed its tail wagging back and forth, almost as if it were happy he’d come to break it out of its prison. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he heard Sandalphon call, but Crowley ignored the false-cheery sentiment, seeing himself out as quickly as he could. Why waste time paying attention to the lowest scum of the earth when he could be focusing his entire attention on climbing the rickety stairs without falling flat on his face. The bare skin of the shirshu’s nose brushed up against his ear and he resisted the temptation to stop and tie the headband currently secured around his wrist to his head for protection. One wrong step and he could very easily find himself paralyzed and lose the only chance he had left. 

Just as he’d expected, it was the headband that saved him in the end. That stupid headband that had fallen off that stupid airbender’s face when the pair had tumbled back onto the solid stone platform at the Western Air Temple. He couldn’t very well ride his newly acquired shirshu - it was much too small - so Crowley had tied a lead around its neck and presented the garment, expecting to be severely disappointed. To his relief, the shirshu actually started leading him somewhere. He wasn’t convinced it was the right direction, but the creature appeared excited by whatever trail it had picked up, so Crowley figured, at the very least, following it was worth a shot.

The universe seemed to be pulling him and the airbender together, after all. Not that Crowley really believed in destiny or anything else of the sort, but he had a good feeling about his situation. He would find that airbender again, he was sure of it. And when he did, he would finally find out the truth.

_ Are you the Avatar?  _ Crowley let his mind wander as they rode. Sometimes, he let the shirshu run out front, watching as it trotted alongside the ostrich horse, nose turned toward the sky. Other times, when the creature tired or began to grow distracted by its surroundings, Crowley would lug it up onto his lap and watch the shirshu’s head for any indication that the airbender had changed course. If the airbender was utilizing his glider, wouldn’t he go in mostly a straight line? Was it a good sign they didn’t change course that often, or did that suggest the young creature was just idly wandering with no idea at all which way to go?

_ If so, why have you not been bending the other elements? Do you not know how, or are you choosing not to? You have been training for at least seven years, if not longer. Surely you have mastered at least the element of water by now. So, why not use it? Was there not enough water around before? Do you think you don’t need it to best someone in a fight? Why? _

No answers came to Crowley as he mused, but that hardly mattered. If he had the knowledge within himself to figure it all out, the firebender was sure he would have done so already. He would just have to interact with the airbender one more time. Demand to know the truth, and if he wouldn’t share it, force him once again into a situation where he had no choice but to use another element or suffer a great injury. Crowley didn’t want to kill the airbender. Fire Lord Sozin and Prince Azulon wanted the Avatar alive. Even if this man wasn’t the Avatar - especially if he wasn’t the Avatar - Crowley saw no reason to take his life. He only ever did so in self-defense. When there was no other option. The firebender didn’t seem himself as a very spiritual person, but some things were just common sense. Life was sacred, and should be treated with respect. Killing for the sake of killing would never bring about good things, in the end. Of that, he was completely convinced. 

Suddenly the shirshu stopped, its ears perking up as its tiny head swiveled around, that hairless nose twitching in the dim light. Night had fallen, and most of the light from above had been shrouded by low hanging clouds drifting by overhead.

“Come on, you little shit,” Crowley grumbled as he tugged on the rope, urging the shirshu closer. It ignored him, still standing at attention a few paces away, hackles raised, the beginnings of a growl sounding in its throat. “There’s nothing out there. You’re just being paranoid.”

The ostrich horse stamped its foot nervously and Crowley peered into the darkness. What would have these creatures so on edge? They were in the middle of a forest, sure, but it wasn’t like there was much out here that could be perceived as a threat. A platypus bear perhaps? Those were diurnal. What would one be doing out and about so late at night?

Suddenly, he felt it. There at the very edge of his senses was another figure. A man. Crouched in the treetops a few dozen feet away. Watching. Waiting.

Crowley’s hands immediately went for the blades strung to his back. As his fingertips made contact with the hilt, fire erupted on all sides of him, sending both the shirshu and ostrich horse into a frenzy. Acting as quickly as he could, Crowley leapt down from his steed, keeping his left hand firmly fixed, not on the reins of his ostrich horse, but on the tether still tied around his shirshu’s neck. It was a split second decision, but one he was happy to have made. The ostrich horse, while completely frightened by the experience, could at least see that they were surrounded and had nowhere to go. The shirshu, on the other hand, was blind to the flames. They were controlled, placed away from the trees and ferns and anything else that might have been damaged, which meant only one thing.

Crowley was about to face off with a firebender.

He tensed, eyes flickering in all directions, extra senses made useless with the extra heat in close proximity. If he was going to spot this attacker, it would not be through the heat on the other man’s body, but by his silhouette alone. One hand tugged on the rope, pulling his possession closer while the other lay empty, waiting for the next attack to strike.

As it turned out, Crowley didn’t have to worry about spotting the stranger at all. He very quickly made himself known. The fire before him split in two down the center, parting like a door to reveal a lone firebender walking toward him. Stocky in build, with the bottom half of his head shaved, top half pulled back away from his eye. A pair of dark brown eyes set in the familiar face of someone Crowley had never expected to see again.

“Kuzon,” he muttered under his breath as he moved to place himself overtop the shirshu now trembling and snarling at his feet. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The other man smiled, but it was a harsh, cold thing. Not at all like Crowley remembered. He stepped in the ring of fire, closing it behind him and stared Crowley down, both hands casually resting in the pockets of his pants. “Stopping you from doing something stupid.”

If he’d had fur, it would be bristling by now. Crowley snarled, his pointed canines glinting in the firelight as the shirshu trembled at his feet, trying to get as close to him as it could while simultaneously putting as much distance between itself and the heat as physically possible.

“And you’re one to talk?” Crowley asked, dryly. “Great advice, coming from a deserter.”

Kuzon simply looked at him for a long time, a flicker of fire reflected in his deep eyes. A lifetime ago, Crowley and Kuzon had known each other. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to say they were friends, but they’d gone to the same school and been a few years apart. They had passed each other in the halls. Acknowledged each other during lunch and from opposite sides of the stage during music class. At one point in his life, Crowley might have admitted he’d admired the other boy, before everything had changed.

When the war had started, Crowley had been just shy of his eleventh birthday. Too young to fight and too young to really understand anything that had happened. All he really remembered was the once in a lifetime chance to view a brilliant comet flying by overhead. One that he’d taken full opportunity of. He remembered later that day, the streets filling with people celebrating. Cheering loud into the night for some reason he couldn’t comprehend. He remembered Kuzon’s silence the following day in school. Remembered the tears in his eyes and the intense heat of his fire when he’d challenged one of the older boys in the class above him to an agni kai.

He remembered how Kuzon had left that afternoon, and had never come back.

“Hard to be a deserter when I never joined the army, wouldn’t you say?”

Amber eyes narrowed. What was Kuzon even doing here? In the middle of an Earth Kingdom forest? Crowley knew he’d left the Fire Nation. That much was obvious based on the wanted posters hanging in every major city he traveled through, but no mention of what, exactly, the other man was wanted for - other than the general charge of ‘treason’.

“He’s not the one you’re looking for.”

“Pardon?” Crowley asked, before the words had fully registered in his mind. What in the world was Kuzon talking about? They hadn’t spoken in nearly ten years - not since Kuzon had been kicked out of Crowley’s school- and he just randomly showed up spouting this nonsense. What was going on?

“Aziraphale.” To his surprise, the name was a familiar sounding one. Where had he heard it before? And more importantly, why did Kuzon believe he had heard it before?

_ Aziraphale.  _ The image of sky blue eyes and soft blonde curl entered his mind and Crowley suddenly found himself thinking of that airbender. The one he’d been tracking since Omashu. The one he’d ambushed at the cottage.

The one who had saved his life. 

“He’s an airbender,” Crowley stubbornly pointed out as he tried to ignore the way his heart had leapt inside his chest at the realization of who they were talking about. Damn him. Dam that stupid airbender and his stupid sad, longing face. The  _ last _ thing Crowley needed was to be going soft. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been tasked with finding a specific airbender. Can’t give it up ‘til I know for sure.”

Kuzon was not deterred. His eyes remained fixed on Crowley’s face, shadows flickering around his rounded cheeks and at the tips of his ears. “He’s not the Avatar, Crowley. I can promise you that much.” He took in a deep breath, and to his shock, Crowley could hear the pain and grief in that one shaky sound. “I know that’s who Sozin sent you after, and I am here tonight to make sure that you leave him be.”

This was outrageous. Who did Kuzon think he was, some kind of bounty police? What right did he have to tell Crowley what he could and couldn’t do? Kuzon had been so far removed from the Fire Nation for so long, he had no concept of what the Fire Lord did or didn’t want. There was no way he could possibly know the mission Crowley had been given. This was just a distraction. A test. Something to keep him here when he should very much be somewhere else entirely. 

“He’s here,” the man whispered, more to himself than to the other man. The shirshu whimpered below him, turning its head in Kuzon’s direction, star-shaped nose wriggling in the firelight. “Aziraphale is with you.”

When Kuzon did not answer, Crowley loosened his grip on the rope, ready to drop it at any sign of aggressive movement from the other man. He had a good feeling that even if the animal bolted, he would be able to find it again soon enough. The past few days they’d been travelling, it had barely left his side.It rode with him, slept with him, stared him down as he ate every meal. It really was like a little lost puppy, who had somehow decided that Crowley was the only thing in this world worth paying any attention to. How delightful.

Slowly, the man reached for his blade, eyes unwavering. Before he could utter a single word, the other firebender simply shook his head, like Crowley was some kind of child who needed a stern talking to. Fury burned within him. He wanted to let it all out. Wanted to burn this forest to the ground. That would show Kuzon exactly who he was dealing with. Crowley wasn’t this little, bullied kid anymore. He wasn’t some freak or loser. He was powerful, and smart, and more determined than anyone else this firebender had ever met before. 

“He is  _ not _ the Avatar, Crowley,” Kuzon reiterated, but Crowley wasn’t listening. His eyes were darting impossibly fast around the area, searching for a way out. Dispelling the fire would be easy enough. He was a firebender, after all, even if his preferred weapon was made of steel, not flames. Disarming Kuzon was another question entirely. He remembered how the other man had been when they were younger. Energetic? Yes. A bit of a clown? No doubt about it, but he had also been precise. Perfect marks in every martial art and bending test they had been given. Kuzon had been the Admiral’s top pick from his graduating class and he had refused, point blank. Not only had he refused, but he’d escaped with his life. Fled the Fire Nation and never looked back.

“How could you possibly know?” Crowley found himself arguing when he should be figuring out how he was going to get out of here with the shirshu now sitting on his foot. The ostrich horse he could leave behind if he had to, but Crowley needed his tracking beast to find Aziraphale. Even if he now knew the airbender was close, that word could mean a lot of things. Without the scent trail to follow, Crowley would easily lose him again. “Because he  _ told  _ you he wasn’t?”

“Because I knew the Avatar!” Kuzon snapped back. Ice shot through Crowley’s veins. Surely this was all part of his elaborate trap. Why, if Kuzon had figured out who he was after, would he admit to knowing Crowley’s target? Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep quiet about that information if it were true?

“You did not.”

Brown eyes flashed in the darkness. “You really want to test me?” Crowley found he did not. There was something in those eyes. A deep set pain, hidden beneath layer upon layer of lightheartedness and a fierce protectiveness.“He was my friend, and he was taken from me and you dare to  _ stand there _ trying to tell me you know more of the truth than I do?”

Crowley scoffed. If this sob story was designed to make him back down and forget about his target, Kuzon was severely underestimating his dedication to this task. “Seems a bit harsh, wouldn’t you say? I heard you were wanted for treason back home, but I didn’t realize it was because you’d actually sided with the enemy. Rumor has it you were just too afraid to fight.”

“He’s  _ lying  _ Crowley,” Kuzon insisted, ignoring Crowley’s jab at him and his character. For some unexplained reason, Crowley’s heart skipped a beat inside his chest. His hand tightened around the rope tethering his shirshu to him. Although, he needn’t have worried . The creature didn’t seem interested in going anywhere but pressing himself further into Crowley’s leg, nearly toppling him over with the weight. “You have to know that. There was no secret army. There was no pre-emptive strike. Sozin murdered thousands of people for no reason other than he wanted the Avatar out of his way.”

It was a lie. It had to be. Crowley wasn’t necessarily the most patriotic of Fire Nation citizens, but even he knew that no one could be as cruel as such a claim would suggest. Kuzon’s claim turned Fire Lord Sozin from a stoic leader who had made difficult choices for the benefit of his people into...into a monster. And no one - no one could be that cruel. No one could be so ruthless that they would attack a whole nation unprovoked. No one could be so... _ unfeeling, _ so inhumane that they would wipe out an entire race. It wasn’t possible, and Crowley refused to believe the words of a traitor like Kuzon. No matter how emotional the tale.

Sensing Crowley’s resolve would not falter, Kuzon released a breath and the fire around them vanished into nothing, as if it had never been there. “Open your eyes, Crowley,” he murmured, voice soft and low. “Open your eyes and  _ see  _ what is going on. You are on the wrong side of history. The wrong side of this war.” He paused, eyes shifting over to rest on Crowley’s face. “The Avatar will return, and when he does, he will bring balance back into the world.”

What was he supposed to say to that? Here he was, standing less than a dozen feet from someone he’d known as a child. Someone he had looked up to. Someone who was on the other side of this war, who was trying to stand in his way.

“And this airbender,” Crowley began, testing out the waters, “Aziraphale. He isn’t the Avatar?”

He didn’t know why he asked. Nothing Kuzon could say would change his mind, and yet, for some inexplicable reason, Crowley found that he wanted to know. Perhaps, if Kuzon said it just one more time, he might begin to believe those words. Perhaps, if he kept Kuzon talking, he might find out the identity of the real Avatar. Of this  _ friend _ of Kuzon’s.

Instead of answering outright, Kuzon allowed his eyes to drift upward towards the heavens. Serpentine amber eyes followed, trying to decipher what the man might be looking for up there amongst the clouds. “He risked exposure to save a village of strangers, stares down the face of hatred with acts of love and has more kindness and grace inside him than anyone I’ve ever known. Wonderful qualities in a person, but no, he is not the same boy I knew all those years ago.”

A snort. This man was unbelievable. “You talk about him like he’s some sort of angel.”

Kuzon shrugged, hands returning to his pockets as he turned to look at Crowley one last time. “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. All I know is he is a good man who has suffered more in the past ten years than a person should in a thousand lifetimes. After all this, he deserves to be left alone.”

A pause. A breath. Brown eyes met gold and in that moment, Crowley knew Kuzon would face him down as many times as it took to get the message across. He would fight and disarm, strike and burn. Over and over and over again, until there was nothing left of Crowley but a burnt out husk of a man.

“I intend to see that he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sandalphon is easily my least favorite of the Archangels. I have plans for all of them, but this seemed like a role he was particularly well suited for (in my humble opinion).
> 
> Heads up - not only is the next chapter a significant one (where we finally see where the hell Aziraphale is going. Has anyone figured it out yet? I'd be very curious to know what your thoughts are), but I am also moving to a new house! It is very very unlikely the next chapter will be up before next weekend with all the things I have to get done. A lot is riding on what comes next and I want to make sure I do it justice.
> 
> As for the weekly fic rec, I am going to put forward another beautiful fic called "If We've Got Nothing (We've Got Us") by Kedreeva (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253575). I absolutely adored God's POV with this, as well as the gorgeous language and really interesting take on not only the nature of humanity, but that of angels and demons as well. Well worth the read and one I continue to revisit time and time again. It also inspired the ending to my fic "Love is a Temporary Madness" (although I made some significant changes/expansions on the base idea, this is still what sparked it all).


	15. The North Pole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Description of a panic attack in the third (and final) section.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” a soft, child-like voice asked him as Aziraphale stood on the northernmost shores of the Earth Kingdom. Water lapped at the collection of rocks beneath his feet and the airbender was almost tempted to take off his shoes and dip his toes in. The water was likely bitterly cold, so he refrained, choosing instead to turn towards Wensleydale and offer the boy up a soft smile.

“I’m afraid I must,” Aziraphale responded, letting his eyes drift over the small crowd of people who had come to see him off. It hadn’t just been Wensleydale, but Adam and Pepper and Brian too. They’d even managed to drag Newton out of bed, blurry eyed and messy haired as he was. The sight of all the Freedom Fighters there as dawn broke over the horizon was enough to fill his heart with enough warmth to ward off any amount of cold he may face on his journey.

Of course, the coat Anathema had provided him certainly helped as well.

“Will we see you again soon?” Pepper asked, her dark curls fluttering as a breeze drifted by. Aziraphale nodded as Brian stepped forward to give him a hug. Out of all the children he’d spent time getting to know these last few days, Brian had been the one he’d bonded with the most. It made sense, with everything they had been through together that first night the airbender had stumbled upon this motley crew of rebels.

“I’m certain of it,” Aziraphale responded, although nothing could be farther from the truth. He had a plan when Katone had died - a plan that he was now one final step away from completing. But after? Aziraphale had no idea what he was going to do. Would he return to the Earth Kingdom? Not to Omashu, of course. Those firebenders were still out there. They knew his face, and if they were to find him again, they would certainly try to eliminate him once and for all. 

Or would they? Aziraphale’s mind drifted back to the harrowing events at the Western Air Temple. He had been sure that the firebender who had pursued him - the one with those peculiar, frightening eyes - had come there intent on killing him. What reason would he have to leave Aziraphale alive, when all of the other airbenders had met such horrible fates? And yet, when Aziraphale had given him a chance, when he had turned his back and flown away, the firebender had done nothing. There had been no sudden blast of fire aimed at his glider, no sharp strike of lightning. The other man had just knelt there, watching, as Aziraphale drifted away and out of sight.

_ Of course he did,  _ the airbender chastised himself, pulling his mind away from those thoughts and back to the present moment.  _ You had just saved his life. For all you know, that was his way of making things even. _

“You know where we live,” Kuzon stated with a soft smile on his face. His brown eyes shimmered in the morning light and for a moment, Aziraphale thought they appeared guarded, as if the normally jovial young man was hiding something. Immediately, he pushed the thought away. Aziraphale had spent the past ten years of his life in a vicious cycle of mistrust and fear. If there was ever a time to break free of that, it was now, with his safety less than a day’s journey away. Kuzon had been nothing but kind to him. He had welcomed Aziraphale with open arms, allowing the airbender to stay with them in their camp without question. Just because he was a firebender, didn’t mean he was automatically evil. The airbender had traveled the world when he was younger, before the comet had struck. He had met people of all types - made friends in every part of the world. 

Including the Fire Nation.

“For now, anyway,” his new acquaintance joked and Aziraphale let out a soft laugh. That much was true. From what he’d been told, the Freedom Fighters, as they called themselves, moved around quite a bit. They had contacts in villages all over this part of the Earth Kingdom. Whenever there was even a whisper of Fire Nation presence, they relocated. Kuzon said it was their way of helping aid in the war how they could. Each one of them had been turned away from fighting with their original nations, for one reason or another. In the midst of all the chaos, they had found each other, and were determined to make the most of it while they could.

“Thank you, for your hospitality,” Aziraphale murmured, giving a short, respectful bow to the group’s leader. Turning behind him, he caught sight of Anathema standing by their canoe, waiting patiently for him to say his goodbyes. She met his gaze and smiled, gesturing for him to take a seat at the bow where he could keep a lookout while her waterbending propelled them along their way.

“Stay safe while I’m gone!” Aziraphale called as he clambered into the back of the canoe, carefully stepping over the bags that had been packed and the glider that had been tucked alongside them as he settled into the front. Anathema climbed in behind him, drawing the tide in gently with both hands until he felt the canoe lift off from the ground and float forward into the ocean before them.

Blue eyes fell on Kuzon as the stockier man lifted a hand in a final farewell. “May the winds carry you to where you can find happiness.” His eyes were glistening as he spoke, and the words rang through the air with a heaviness that Aziraphale understood all too well. His heart ached as thoughts of Katone and Monk Gyatso and all of his other family and friends flashed through his mind. He shouldn’t be here right now. Aziraphale should be back at the Southern Air Temple, working on his studies and teaching the next generation of airbenders how to put aside their chaotic energy and focus their minds. He should be leading meditation sessions and teaching history lessons and eating his fill of jelly filled cakes, not sitting in a canoe at the northern edge of the Earth Kingdom, all alone. Possibly the last of the airbenders alive, apart from Aang. Wherever he may be.

The Fire Nation had taken everything from him. And not just on that day the comet had struck. They had wounded him over and over and over again. They had hunted him for ten years, chasing him all over the Earth Kingdom. Aziraphale had known hunger. He had known the pain of being burned and sliced open and physically stretched to his limit. He had known despair and hopelessness and what it felt like to believe that his world had changed, irrevocably. 

“You ready?” Anathema asked as the Freedom Fighters disappeared back into the dense thicket of the forest. Aziraphale forced himself to meet her gaze for a moment, pushing away those ugly thoughts that always seemed to hover at the back of his mind. She really was an extraordinary woman. An excellent bender and loyal to a fault. The airbender had only known her a short while, but she’d leapt at the chance to help him on his quest. Even if that meant returning to a place that had once been her home. A place that hadn’t accepted her for who she truly was.

Aziraphale nodded, trying to muster as much courage as he could. This was not the time to turn back. He’d come this far already, suffered enough heartache to last several lifetimes. No more. It was time to put the pain and sorrow behind him. It was time to take his fate into his own hands and ensure that no one would ever come after him again. The Fire Nation may wish to wipe out the entirety of his people, but they weren’t going to get to him. He would see to that.

“To the North Pole.”

* * *

It was a city made entirely of ice, carved into the landscape of the north pole by waterbenders who had lived generations ago. Vast buildings, intricate waterways, ornate bridges that arced over, connecting every street so that benders and non-benders alike could get where they needed to go. 

What was most impressive of all the wonders the North Pole had to offer were its front gates. Standing hundreds of feet tall, they provided a barrier of protection Aziraphale had only seen rivaled by the great Earth Kingdom City of Ba Sing Se. The gates to the glacier wall were controlled by waterbending alone and opened with a loud rumble as he and Anathema approached. Aziraphale felt his heart seize in his chest for a moment as the city appeared before them in all its glory. This was it. They were really here.

He was finding it difficult to breathe, but for once, it wasn’t due to fear or despair, but feelings of awe and wonder. The Northern Water Tribe had made their home spectacular. Everywhere he looked, there were buildings several stories high, made from snow and ice. People walked the streets, wrapped tight in their fur clothing as the sunlight high above danced around them. Reflecting in small rainbows as it passed through glassy windows and flowing fountains.

“It’s so much bigger than I remember,” Azirapahle murmured as their canoe slowly drifted down the city’s central waterway. They were flanked on either side by a canoe filled with more waterbenders, although Aziraphale could tell they did not seem alarmed or mistrustful in any way. The pair that had met them at the gate seemed to know Anathema well enough to call her by name. He assumed this escort to the main plaza was more of a formality than anything else.

“Funny you should mention that,” Anathema expressed in a tone that made her words seem not that funny at all. Aziraphale tore his eyes away from the splendor around him and focused on his new companion. Her lips were drawn tight, eyes scanning ahead of them as if she were searching for something rather unpleasant. “I was about to remark on how small it seems now. I used to think it was the grandest place in the world.”

Her unspoken sentiment of ‘not anymore’ did not go unnoticed. Aziraphale thought about asking her what had happened to cause her to want to leave a place like this. The architecture was different from the temples he used to call home, and not just for the material used to create the buildings around him, but Aziraphale found himself instilled with the same soaring feeling in his chest that he had experienced whenever he arrived at one of the temples as a child.

Even though he did not understand, Aziraphale knew enough about Anathema to know she was a rational person. He may not know the reason why, but it was very clear that there was a reason she had left. And in the end, that was all he needed to know.

“Well, well,” a voice called from the shoreline as their canoe came to rest at the nearest dock. In front of them was the central plaza, where dozens of people could be seen going about their day. Behind it, the grand staircase that lead up to the palace. “Look who decided to crawl her way back home.”

Aziraphale’s eyes fell on a young man, dressed head to toe in the robes of a warrior. Deep navy pants, white fur-trimmed coat. He even had the tusked spear resting at his side as he stared down at them with narrowed eyes that were such a deep blue, they were almost purple in color. The canoe shifted beneath him and Aziraphale turned to watch Anathema climb out without missing a step, turning her back to the man who had addressed them as she offered her hand for the airbender to grab onto.

“I’m not here for my sake, Gabriel,” she finally responded, shooting a disapproving look at the man still standing before them. The other waterbenders that had escorted them into the city had already peeled off and were returning to their station at the front gate. It was just himself, Anathema, this Gabriel person, along with a few other warriors standing just behind him. “Nor am I here for yours. Aziraphale needed a guide to bring him here, and I volunteered. There is nothing more to it.”

Gabriel’s jaw flexed in a way that signaled he was less than pleased with her response. Instead of shooting back something clever, he instead turned his attention to Aziraphale, eyes narrowing as he took the other man in. “You aren’t Water Tribe.” The suspicion in his voice was not easily missed.

“An astute observation,” Anathema grunted, causing Gabriel’s hand to clench around his weapon. Aziraphale felt himself tensing up, preparing to grab Anathema and flee, should the need arise. It would be simple enough. He could conjure up enough air in a single second to create a cloud of snow and ice thick enough to cover their retreat if he directed it toward the ground at their feet. There were plenty of small alleyways in between the buildings for them to hide in, and Anathema was a waterbender. She could create a tunnel anywhere in this city and get them to safety if things got heated. “Was it the blond hair that gave it away? Or maybe it was the bright blue arrows all over his body?”

At that comment, several of the soldiers behind Gabriel began muttering to each other. Subconsciously, Aziraphale reached his hands up to draw his hood a bit tighter around his face. Due to the cold temperatures, the only one of his tattoos exposed was the one that adorned his forehead. Even though he knew he was safe here - that there was absolutely no way anyone from the Fire Nation could break through the North Pole’s defenses - Aziraphale found it difficult to break away from a decade’s long way of life. 

“Ah,” Gabriel murmured, and Aziraphale turned to face him, surprised at the man’s sudden change of tone. “It is an honor to have you here.” Aziraphale thought he might faint from shock when the warrior actually bowed before him, showing a deep and genuine sign of respect. “I imagine you are here to see the chief? I can take you to him, if you like. No need to bother your...friend anymore.”

Anathema bristled beside him and Aziraphale wondered what exactly had happened between these two to cause such animosity. The waterbender hadn’t mentioned anything about it when she’d offered to take him here. All Anathema had revealed was that she had grown up here in the North Pole and had left several years ago to help aid in the war efforts.

“It is not a bother, you self-entitled, chauvinistic - ”

“It’s alright, Anathema,” Aziraphale assured her, taking a half step forward to address Gabriel and the others. “Thank you for your offer,” he responded, returning the bow. “But I am actually here seeking a healer.”

Murmurs of surprise echoed around them. A crowd had begun to gather in the plaza. No more than a dozen or so people, but as more and more stopped by to see what was going on, the mystery and intrigue intensified. If he didn’t find his way to a healer’s hut soon, Aziraphale would likely garner the attention of the whole North Pole. He was sure that as they spoke, rumors of a lone airbender were already making their way through the city. He wouldn’t be able to walk five steps without running into someone who wanted to see for themselves that the rumors were true.

“A healer?” Gabriel seemed flabbergasted by the thought. His eyes quickly scanned Aziraphale up and down, in what the airbender supposed was an attempt to find the wound he’d so grievously missed. Of course, there was none. Not one in any way Gabriel or any of the other warriors would understand. 

“Spirits!” Anathema growled in exasperation, her hand wrapping around Aziraphale’s gloved wrist as she tugged him closer. “Is it truly that impossible for you to believe that he might have come all this way to meet with a  _ woman _ ?”

Before Gabriel could formulate a response, Anathema was leading Aziraphale away, down the road made from packed snow and ice, toward the eastern part of the city. “Go find a wall to stand on!” she shouted over her shoulder at the man left standing in their wake. “It would be a much better use of your time.” Anger radiated off her in waves so hot Aziraphale was sure they would melt the path they walked on.

In a brief moment of wisdom, the airbender chose to remain silent. Whatever history Anathema had with that man, it was her business. If she chose to fill him in, he would graciously accept the information, but he did not expect her to. Out of anyone, Aziraphale knew what it was like to have a past not worth mentioning.

“Sorry about that,” the woman mumbled as they approached a small hut at the end of the street. Brown eyes flickered down as she released Aziraphale’s arm. “I told myself I wasn’t going to let it get to me, but  _ of course _ it had to be Gabriel that met us once we got here.”

She offered up an apologetic smile, but said nothing further on the matter. Aziraphale lingered outside the doorway a moment longer, not entirely sure what he was waiting for. He’d finally made it. He’d reached the north pole, had found himself outside the building where the most prominent healers in all the four nations resided. So what was holding him up? This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? He should be racing inside, eager to talk to them. Not hovering outside the doorway, too afraid to take that next step.

“Hey,” Anathema’s soft voice pulled him from his musings. Her gloved hand found its way to his, giving it a gentle squeeze through the thick, wool-lined fabric. “I’ll be waiting for you, however long you need, alright?”

Voice caught in his throat, Aziraphale nodded his head. He squeezed her hand in return, then, taking a deep breath, the airbender stepped inside. 

Aziraphale hadn’t known what to expect when he stepped inside the healer’s hut. Whatever his preconceived notions had been, the man  _ hadn’t  _ expected to see a room filled with small children. There were maybe a dozen or so of them, all kneeling around a humanoid figure placed in the center of the room upon a slightly raised dais. At the figure’s head knelt a woman dressed in the blue robes of her nation. Her black hair was pinned back away from her face, the curly ends sticking out in all directions like a halo around the deep blue ribbon holding it back. 

The woman turned toward him as he entered, a soft smile lighting up her face as Aziraphale lowered his hood and approached her. The children at his feet looked up at him, curiosity gleaming in their eyes. What were they thinking in this moment? Did they know who he was? At a brief glance, he concluded that most of them weren’t even old enough to remember the comet. Even if they did, they would have been too young to understand its significance and how it had changed the world in the course of a single day. It was very possible that he was the first airbender they had ever seen.

“Welcome traveler,” she greeted, body remaining in a kneeling position on the floor. Several of the children in between the two adults shifted over, giving Aziraphale space to join her on the ground if he chose to. After showing his respect with a short bow, the airbender did, surprised to find that the floor was not nearly as cold as he had expected it to be.

“What can I do for you?”

Aziraphale glanced around at the children, all waiting silently to see what would happen next. He hesitated, not wanting to subject them to any of the pain in his story, but not sure if he had a right to ask them to leave. As he swept his gaze around the room once more, Aziraphale realized that not only were these children, but they were all young girls. No doubt in the middle of a healing lesson.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” the airbender began, already formulating his plan to exit gracefully. “I can come back another time.”

The woman laughed. The low, warm sound resonated with Aziraphale, calming him in a way he didn’t fully understand, but appreciated, nonetheless. “Nonsense. There is no interruption in a classroom such as this. Mara, what is it I always say?”

A young girl no older than eight piped up, her blue eyes sparkling in the softly lit room. “That every moment is a teachable moment if you give it the time it deserves, Miss Uriel.”

The healer nodded, pride shining in her deep brown eyes at the child’s prompt response. Aziraphale felt a frown making its way onto his face, and he pushed it aside. She wanted him to stay. Even knowing who and what he was, this healer was not afraid for him to speak openly in front of her students. Aziraphale took a deep breath. If she was so sure, who was he to question her judgement?

“I was hoping,” he began, feeling that all-too familiar sensation of his lungs constricting inside his chest. Slowly, hoping to gather some semblance of his thoughts, Aziraphale began to tug off his outer clothing. The hut was spacious and though it was made entirely of ice and snow, it was warm enough that the girls already seated inside did not have to wear their coats or any other protective gear from the sometimes bitterly cold temperatures. 

First came the gloves. They slipped off with ease, revealing two pale hands adorned with blue markings. Aziraphale wiggled his fingertips for a moment, trying to shake the scratchy sensation of the wool that had previously been pressed up against them. Next he tugged off his coat, laying it neatly down beside him before rolling up his sleeves to reveal even more of the tattoos to the wide brown and blue eyes that surrounded him.

“I was hoping you would be able to remove my tattoos.”

If Uriel was shocked, nothing about her facial expression suggested that to be the case. Instead, she reached out with adept hands, fingers tracing the lines of the markings on his arms, eyes dancing across every spiral and swirl. 

“I have never attempted something like this before,” she admitted softly, and yet her voice still carried across the room. “But I am willing to try.”

That was it. No query as to why he wanted them gone. No reminder that such a choice was a permanent one. Uriel had immediately trusted him at his word and offered him her help. Relief swept through Aziraphale’s entire body, with such a strength that he feared he would burst out crying. The thought of losing the final tie he had to his people was a painful one, but if removing his tattoos could remove him as a target from the Fire Nation’s eyes, he would do it in a heartbeat. No matter how much such a procedure might hurt. Nothing could be worse than the constant state of fear he lived in every day. Nothing could be worse than knowing he put his friends lives in danger every moment he was with them, so long as he still wore those arrows proudly against his skin.

“Yes,” he breathed as she took his arm into her hands. “Please, try.”

With a wave of her hand, water from the pool around her leapt into the air and made its way over to them, coming to a halt as it hovered over Aziraphale’s exposed skin. She hadn’t asked him to remove the rest of his clothing, likely due to what she’d just said. Uriel didn’t know if this was going to work. If the healing on his hand and arm was successful, they could move to a more private location to finish the job.

If not...well, Aziraphale didn’t know what he was going to do if this didn’t work.

“Close your eyes,” Uriel requested and the airbender found himself doing so immediately. Darkness blanketed him and Aziraphale drew in a deep breath as he readied himself for whatever came next.

A soft, blue glow appeared beneath his eyelids. He couldn’t see exactly what it was, but the blinding light was impossible to miss, even with his eyes completely shut. A low voice whispered for him to relax and Aziraphale found himself doing just that. He felt a strange sort of energy in the room. It was cool, and fluid like water, shifting around them in a way that felt almost as natural as breathing and as captivating as a haunting melody heard in the depths of the night.

With no warning, pinpricks as cold as ice erupted across his skin. Aziraphale suppressed the instinct to pull away, reminding himself that this had to be done. If he wanted any chance at happiness, he could not give up now. Once again, the airbender forced himself to relax, forced himself to think of pleasant thoughts. Of fields filled with wildflowers. Of the sweet sensation of flavor exploding in his mouth the first time he bit into a moon peach. Anything to take his mind away from the present moment until it was safe enough to return.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the sensation disappeared. Brilliant blue light faded back into darkness and Aziraphale found himself once again staring down at his outstretched arm, still cradled in Uriel’s warm hands. His heart sank as a vibrant tattoo stared directly back at him.

“It didn’t work.” The words left him in a rush of air as Aziraphale deflated. What had gone wrong? He didn’t understand. There had been a glow. He had felt the bending take affect, so why hadn’t his tattoos been removed?

Glancing up at Uriel provided no further answers. She looked as disappointed and confused as he felt. Frowning, she turned his arm over to the other side, then back again, running her fingertips across the skin in a way that sent shivers up his spine.

“The human body is a miraculous thing,” Uriel mused. Behind him, Aziraphale could sense the children in the room inching forward, hanging on her every word. “It can go through much and come out stronger for the pain it has suffered.” She looked up and met his gaze, eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears and a deeply knowing look. “Waterbending can sometimes be used to accelerate the body’s own ability to heal itself. Like a river guides a canoe on its course when walking the same distance would take much longer.”

Finally, she lowered his hand and returned the water to its pool. Sighing, Uriel looked around the room at the young girls who had begun to shift around in their seats. Most of them still had their eyes on her, as if they were waiting for some sort of miracle. The youngest of them had diverted their attention elsewhere, drawing pictures in the snow at their feet or using their waterbending to create small, oddly shaped sculptures from the ice.

“Your skin healed itself years ago,” Uriel explained and Aziraphale felt the last spark of hope within him flicker and die. He was a fool to have come here. A fool to have come here in the first place. Like so many others he knew, the universe had decided his fate for him. There would be no changing it. Not today. Not ever.

Uriel breathed in, sharper and more intensely than he’d heard her do so before. Once again, that stupid, useless ember of hope flickered to life within him. Aziraphale wished there was a way for him to stamp it out for good. All his life, the monks had taught him that hope was a distraction. That clinging to the idea that his experience could get better inevitably led to feelings of disappointment when things did not go the way he wanted them to. 

Still, the airbender could not stop himself from looking up at her, blue eyes wide, waiting for her to speak. If she had found another way - something else they could try - he wanted to hear it.

“There is one more thing we could try,” the waterbender ventured, as if the mention of the idea itself might cause that delicate hope to shatter. “But you will have to wait until later this evening, when the moon reveals herself to us.”

Aziraphale nodded, already fully on board with whatever she had planned. He’d waited over ten years to finally find a way to be at peace with the part of his life that remained. What was a few hours more, in the grand scheme of things?

* * *

The light of the full moon shone bright overhead as Aziraphale followed Uriel and the other waterbenders across the wooden bridge toward an island filled with lush grasses and flowering shrubs. There was a warmth here unlike anywhere else he’d yet to experience at the North Pole, and yet, the glacier walls that surrounded this grove still stood tall and strong. An impenetrable force protecting a place that was obviously very sacred to the people of the Northern Water Tribe.

“This is our Spirit Oasis,” Uriel explained as she settled down on the grass at the edge of a large pool of clear water. In the center swam a pair of koi. One black, the other white. Around and around they went in an almost hypnotizing dance as they circled each other, showing no signs of slowing down or stopping. 

Aziraphale found himself watching the pair as Uriel explained the nature of this strange garden located behind the chief's palace. At the back of the grove was a large waterfall that poured over the edge of the glacier walls. Just by looking at the rivers surrounding them as they’d made their way onto this verdant island, Aziraphale could tell that the external waters were bitterly cold and unforgiving, yet this pond where the two koi swam looked pleasant and inviting.

“It is the center of all spiritual energy at the North Pole,” she murmured, reaching out a hand to beckon Aziraphale closer. The others who had come with them - a few elders of the community as well as healers and warriors alike - found their places in a wide arc behind Uriel and Aziraphale, standing between them and the stone gate that lay beyond. Uriel had said they were here at the chief's insistence. This was a sacred place, after all, and it was all of their duty to protect it from any harm. “The waters in this pool have special healing properties.” 

She glanced upward at the starry sky above and Aziraphale mirrored her gaze. There was not a single cloud to be seen. Just a vast navy sky illuminated by the bright white light of the moon hanging high above.

“Our strength, as waterbenders, comes from the moon,” the healer explained. For a moment, Aziraphale forgot why he was here. He felt more like a student in one of her lessons, rather than a fugitive on the run for his life. “If there is any combination of healing that will do what you wish, this is it.”

Brown eyes drifted down to the shimmering waters below. Somehow, without her having to say a word, Aziraphale knew what he had to do. Slowly, the airbender stood, discarding every unnecessary piece of clothing until he was left in only a pair of burgundy trousers that tied off at his knees. With deft fingers, he quickly untied the edges so that the water could fill them when he submerged himself, leaving nothing to block the water’s healing power.

Warmth flowed over him as Aziraphale stepped into the pond, lowering himself until he was floating on his back, water encasing every bit of him except for his eyes, nose, and mouth. He could feel the liquid seeping through his remaining clothes, flooding his skin with a light tingling sensation that he hoped - despite his best judgement - was a good sign.

“Try to relax as much as you can,” he heard Uriel’s muffled voice from behind him. It was difficult to hear much of anything past the pond’s surface, but her gentle words still pierced through the haze. Aziraphale fixed his eyes on the moon hanging overhead, tracing the shadows like he would a field of wildflowers or a forest canopy, taking in the subtle design and beauty many people so often missed. 

Once again, that soft blue glow surrounded him and Aziraphale forced himself not to look. Logically, it would be too bright to stare at for more than a brief second, but there was another reason he didn’t want to see. He couldn’t bear to take in the image around him - the image  _ of  _ him. Couldn’t bear to see the water tracing over his skin as the blue markings he’d carried with him for a dozen years faded from view. Or, couldn’t bear to watch as they stayed the same. Never-changing in a world that was anything but. 

Aziraphale was afraid that Uriel might fail. He was afraid to watch as the only hope he clung to was snuffed out for good. Afraid of the moment he realized that this was his life now. Marked as someone who would be forever hunted. Destined to die at the hands of the Fire Nation, or waste away in a hole under the ground. He was afraid that he might never feel safe again.

And he was too afraid that this might succeed. If Uriel succeeded here tonight, his people really would be gone. He would lose every last connection he had with them. He would never airbend again. Never feel the wind on his face as he flew above the treetops. Never feel the exhilaration in the pit of his stomach as he lept several feet into the air, bounding from one place to the next. Never know the joy of being at peace with the world around him. For how could he ever be at peace if he had to let go of the most important part of himself? 

Aziraphale knew he was being ridiculous. There was no other way. He  _ had _ to get rid of his tattoos or there would be no way for him to live in peace. The threat of being discovered would always hover over him. Every place he went, he would be looking for trouble. Every home he chose, he would be forced to hide away from strangers. The only way for him to achieve a life that was worth living  _ at all _ was to rid himself of these tattoos. Wipe away any sign of his history and never lift a finger to airbend again. 

Pain erupted across his skin and Aziraphale could not hold in his gasp of surprise. It took his mind several long seconds to realize that this wasn’t actual skin-piercing pain he was feeling, but the sensation of icy cold pinpricks across his arms, legs and spine. Every place there was a blue mark now felt like a tiny needle made of ice was forcing its way into his body, diving through the pores and spreading out like a wildfire, burning across his entire form. Trying to hold back his reaction as much as he could, Aziraphale focused all his attention on the moon. He tried to observe the way its light spread across the night sky, forming a halo around it that extended out behind several of the closest stars. They were tiny pinpricks of light, and yet they shone brighter than any ornate hall or temple jewel he had ever seen.

Through the tears in his eyes, the moon began to blur. His heart began to thrum inside his chest as the white light stretched and reformed, shifting in color and shape until it was an angry orange streak across the sky. Aziraphale breathed in a shaky sob, trying to catch his breath but the air caught in his throat, burning as it went down. He smelled smoke on the horizon, could hear the screams of thousands of men and women and  _ children _ as they fought for their lives against the onslaught of fire raining down from the heavens. 

“Please,” Aziraphale whimpered as he, too, was engulfed by the flames, every bit of his body burning in agony. It was impossible to tell through the cries ringing in his ears if his voice was echoing out above the noise, or if his destiny was to be lost in the chaos. He tried to draw in breath, but no matter how hard and quickly his lungs tried to operate, he felt as though he was suffocating. Why? Why was this happening? What had they done to deserve this? Aziraphale had never lifted a finger to harm anyone. He and his siblings and mentors and guardians had believed that all life was precious. So why had they been snuffed out so violently? What threat could they possibly have been? 

The burning sensation subsided, but Aziraphale found that he still could not move. Not his hands, or his legs, his lungs or even his eyes. He ached, everywhere, limbs dragging him down toward the bottom of the pond. Tears streamed from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks in hot rivers as they joined up with the waters around him. It was a miracle he hadn’t sunk to the bottom with the weight of it all, and subconsciously, Aziraphale had the thought that Uriel might be to thank for that. 

After what felt like a century, the man’s breath finally filled his lungs completely. The deep breath of fresh air freed him from his paralysis and he found himself lurching forward, pulling himself into a sitting position as his hands shot forward reflexively for something to hold onto. Of course, there was nothing, but instead of sinking below the surface, he found that the water was still extremely shallow in this part of the pond, only coming up to his shoulders as he sat along the bank.

Silence echoed around him as everyone waited with stilled breath to see what he would do. Once Aziraphale found himself settled and calm enough to think rationally, he lifted an arm to wipe at his face, succeeding only in drenching the rest of his face with water. Chuckling at his lack of clarity, the man took a deep breath to steady himself. Without much thought, Aziraphale looked down at the back of his still trembling hands, willing them to relax. Pale skin peered back up at him and for a moment, Aziraphale found himself simply staring at them, unable to look away.

Pale skin. Trembling, blank hands.

It had worked.

Within him, Aziraphale’s stomach roiled. As gently as he could, he lifted himself out of the water, legs practically collapsing the moment he tried to put any weight on them. He let out a deep breath, arms braced against the soft grass as he crawled the rest of the way, unable to look up at the faces of the half a dozen or so people surrounding him. Unable to look away from the tattoo-less skin that stared back at him with unmerciful eyes.

It had worked.

“Would you all…” he began with shallow, shaking breaths. Aziraphale felt his hands begin to tremble again and he tried not to look at them as he shifted around so he was once again seated on the ground facing the pond. Water dripped down his back, sliding along his spine as it followed the path those arrows one sat. Wishing they would stop, the man clenched his fists at his side, gathering up as much fabric as he could, squeezing every drop of that miraculous - torturous - water from it. His heart was racing in his chest as if he’d sprinted several miles and it was no secret that he was mere moments away from falling apart completely. “Could you all give me a few minutes?”

“Of course.” He did not look at Uriel’s face as she answered. It was bad enough he could hear the sorrow in her voice. Why make it worse by seeing it written all over her face? A momentary warmth appeared on his shoulder as she laid her hand over it, squeezing in what he thought was an attempt at comfort. “Take all the time you need.”

He closed his eyes, listening to the rush of grass and soft thud of feet upon wood, and when Aziraphale opened them again to stare back down at the two koi still swimming in circles around each other before him, undisturbed by the change that had just undid him from the inside out, the man was completely and utterly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you wonderful readers! Thank you so much for your patience this past week. The move was a success and we are now settled (mostly) into our new home. I really appreciate your willingness to wait a bit longer than usual for an update and I hope that this one was well worth it.
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer than my usual ones, for a very special reason. Today, it has been exactly one year since I joined the Good Omens fandom and wrote my first piece here on Ao3. And with this update, I have hit (*drum roll please*) over 700k words for Good Omens! I seriously cannot believe that in the course of a year, I wrote enough words to fill the pages of over seven full-length books (one of which I actually did publish - found on Amazon: "The Stars Walk Backward" by Becky Scroggs). This community has reignited my passion for writing. I have grown so much this past year and I am simply overwhelmingly grateful for all that I have managed to accomplish and all the friends I have made along the way.
> 
> None of this could have happened without you wonderful people. Your words of encouragement along the way have meant the absolute world to me. It is your continued comments and support that motivates me to keep going when I feel like giving up, so thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am so excited to continue working on this story and for all the other surprises I have coming your way for this next year.
> 
> Let's see if I can't reach a million words by next summer!
> 
> P.S. Your wait is finally over. The next update will be the end of "Part 1" of this story and will conclude with Crowley and Aziraphale finally joining up. Plenty of Ineffable Husband interactions (and romance ;) ) coming your way!


	16. Dancing Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Panic attack towards the end of the chapter right after Aziraphale's tattoos are removed. Crowley's in for a bit of a rough go this chapter. But things will get better. I promise.

No matter which way he looked at it - and Crowley had looked at the situation at least fifteen different ways by now - there was no way he was getting this shirshu into the North Pole undetected. It just wasn’t going to happen. The creature was too rambunctious. Too...easily distracted. All it would take was one misstep and Crowley would be caught. And with the war raging between the three nations along the shores of the Earth Kingdom, he didn’t like his chances if he found his hands in Water Tribe custody.

The thought of abandoning this pup out here had crossed his mind at one point in time. He would travel much more efficiently if he did, and yet, something inside Crowley balked at the thought. It wasn’t this shirshu’s fault it’s mother had died, or that it had gotten such a rotten start in life. And whether it had been his end goal or not, the firebender was responsible for the creature now. Leaving it behind felt irresponsible. Maybe it was just common decency. Or maybe he’d grown a soft spot for the little shit.

Not that Crowley would ever admit to it.

“Alright, now,” the firebender began as he looked down into the makeshift canoe. The hollowed out, burnt husk of a fallen tree was the best he could do given the circumstances. It wasn’t as if Crowley could wander into any random Earth Kingdom village and ask to see what kind of boats they had for sale. He may not look Fire Nation, but that didn’t mean the firebender’s flaming red hair and serpentine eyes put people at ease. Crowley would be lucky if all they did was throw him out of their village. He’d had to deal with much worse in his lifetime and unlike when he was back home, flashing around a document with Fire Lord Sozin’s insignia was likely to get him thrown in prison or killed, not force the shopkeeper to give him what he wanted.

“I need you to stay right here,” he announced, pointing to the exact spot where the shirshu was currently sitting. He’d dragged the canoe several feet up on shore, tucking it away behind some very large ice-like boulders jutting out of the frozen landscape. Crowley hoped that with the setting sun and the significant distance he’d placed between them and the city wall, that both this creature and the majority of his supplies would remain safe until he got back. “Watch my stuff, alright? And try not to eat all our food.” He gave the creature a pointed stare at that comment, which it promptly ignored. Instead, the shirshu yawned and looked over at him from where it was currently curled up between the makeshift seats. “You know what I’m talking about. You think you’re hungry now, but if you don’t pace yourself, just wait and see how you feel this time tomorrow.’

Again, the shirshu said nothing. Not that Crowley would have expected it to. Still, some acknowledgement would have been nice. This was their food stores for the next several days he was talking about. It wouldn’t kill the creature to at least  _ pretend _ to pay attention.

“Stay,” Crowley reiterated, one more time as he leveled his gaze on his travelling companion. The shirshu did nothing in response, choosing to tuck its nose up under its front right paw. Likely in an attempt to ward off the cold. Even in the middle of the day, with the sun beating down, the North Pole was a wasteland of ice. He couldn’t fathom how anyone would want to live up here, let alone an entire civilization. and yet, for some inconceivable reason, they did.

Now, with the sun quickly beginning to set on the horizon, the air was growing much colder. While Crowley appreciated the dying light providing him extra cover as he approached the great city of Agna Qel'a, the firebender did not appreciate the cold that came with the coming of night. Nor did he look forward to the extra power the full moon gave any waterbenders he might run into once he stepped foot in the city.

Crowley had positioned himself about a mile due west of the city. This was, in part, to put the harsh light of the sun behind him, so that any scouting parties might overlook him. However, it was also close enough that he could easily walk to the front gates, if he chose to do so.

He did not. This time, Crowley had a different plan. One that he’d thought of thanks to that annoying earthbender, Bumi.

If someone as commonplace and simple as  _ Bumi _ could tunnel underground fast enough to outpace Crowley while he was tracking a target, then surely the firebender could do the same thing here. It likely wouldn’t be quite as elegant a solution, as Crowley would be working against the element opposite his own, but with a fire hot enough, he should be able to melt a tunnel big enough to wiggle his way through.

The key was all in the breath. Crowley readied his stance and expanded his lungs as far as they could go. Cold stung his throat as the air rushed in and the firebender did his best to ignore the sensation, focusing his energy instead on the rush of energy such a chilling breath brought.

Fire erupted from his open palms, aimed directly at the ground in front of his feet. The air hissed around him as a fountain of steam rushed forward, obscuring everything from sight for several dozen feet. Crowley didn't wait for it to clear. He pressed forward with determined steps, hoping that his leather boots were thick enough to keep out the worst of the cold and moisture as he slowly made his way down underground. 

Throughout the whole journey, Crowley stuck as close to the surface as he could while staying hidden from sight. The firebender was fairly certain he was far enough inland that the thickness of the ice beneath his feet wouldn’t be a problem, but it was better to be cautious in situations like this. The last thing he wanted was to blast too deep and find himself up to his neck in the icy waters of the Northern Sea.

There wasn’t really much of a plan to be had. Crowley had followed a plan before and it had blown up entirely in his face. This time, the firebender was operating on a general idea of what he needed to do. Sneak into the city, locate the airbender, figure out if he was the Avatar, and leave undetected. Much easier said than done, but if Crowley had wanted something easy, he wouldn’t have taken on this task. 

He could do this. The first part was practically done. He’d tunneled his way toward the city, counting his steps along the way to ensure he wasn’t too far off. Of course, it wasn’t a precise measurement. There was no way to know for sure if he’d made it to the desired location unless he blasted his way upward, but many things could go wrong if he was off by even a few hundred feet. He could alert the soldiers along the city wall to his presence if he showed up outside the city, or find himself in the midst of a crowded plaza should he end up inside it.

This called for precision. For patience and stealth, which happened to be some of Crowley’s strengths. He paused, allowing the rush of flames from his palms to die to a tiny candle-like flicker. Letting it die completely would have been easier. Fire was a finicky element. It wanted to grow and expand and rage out of control. Keeping it confined to something that was manageable required proper breath and focus. Something that could be difficult to accomplish with the possibility of running into hundreds of Water Tribe soldiers at every turn.

Very slowly, Crowley increased the intensity of the flame, fanning it out in a straight line, almost like a dagger or other small blade. The light glowed an angry orange, casting shadows on the still damp walls. He lifted it up over his head, watching as the ice melted around the tip of the flame, sending droplets of water raining down on his arms and chest, soaking through the fabric, sending a shiver down his spine.

Centimeter by centimeter, the ice began to melt. The second Crowley felt the resistance falter, he stopped, dousing his flame and stilling his breath so that all sound and light around him ceased. The firebender closed his eyes and focused his attention outward, listening for any sound that might clue him in to where he was.

There was nothing. Just the silence of the night and the faintest sliver of moonlight filtering through the small hole he had created. Crowley gritted his teeth. Now what? He was certain he hadn’t overshot the city, but how close was he to the wall? Was he a handful of feet or a quarter of a mile away?

He glanced up at the hint of night sky peeking down at him. There was, what, six inches of ice between him and the surface? Eight? If he adjusted his path just a little bit, there was a chance he’d be able to sense the waterbenders above him without them being able to see him or fall through the ice at their feets.

A few more minutes and Crowley had his answer. At the very edge of his consciousness, he felt them. Two of them, standing together beside what appeared to be a very dense wall made entirely of ice. The firebender had no way to be sure, of course. All he saw was the absence of heat beside their bodies, but it was enough. If there were waterbenders right above him, it meant that he was finally in the city.

Once again, the flames went out, plunging Crowley into darkness. Darkness was alright with him. The less distractions there were, the easier it was to hone in on what he really needed to pay attention to.

He couldn’t hear them - the two men standing side by side, but Crowley could sense them directly above. They didn’t seem to be doing much at all. In fact, he crouched there in his makeshift tunnel for several minutes and neither one of them moved at all, save for the gentle shift of their weight back and forth. 

The firebender paused. What should he do? On the one hand, he could keep moving forward, but from what he knew about the city, the central roads were not roads at all, but waterways, filled with boats and benders of all sorts. The last thing Crowley wanted to do was accidentally blast his way through to one of those. He would almost assuredly drown. And if he were lucky enough to survive a sudden flood of his makeshift tunnel, there was always the lingering chance of being spotted. 

What if he just waited here to see what they would do? From their arms, loosely hanging by their sides, he assumed neither one was armed. It was quite possible they were just two friends hanging out. If so, why were they so far away from anyone else? Why so close to the wall?

Curiosity got the better of him. This could go one of two ways - extremely well for him or it could be a disaster. Crowley liked to think it was the universe’s turn to do him a favor, after the last several weeks he’d had, so he silently lifted his hand and reformed the thin flame, cutting through the ice like it was nothing more than soft cotton until the tiniest of holes pierced through the layers separating them and he could overhear the words being said.

“...can’t believe the nerve of that girl, coming back here after everything that happened when she left. She’s a total disgrace, parading around like some kind of  _ warrior _ .”

The voice was most definitely male, and an arrogant one, at that. Crowley instantly disliked him, and he’d said barely two dozen words. A soft snort sounded from the figure beside him. The firebender shifted imperceptibly and angled his head upward to try and hear better.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” This voice was slightly higher pitched than the first, although probably still male. The cold climate made it easier for Crowley to sense an individual’s body heat, but things like heavy layered clothing tended to balance that out. And everyone here, male or female, wore heavy, fur-lined clothing, making it impossible to tell for sure what he was dealing with..

If they didn’t, well they were in for a rough time.

Crowley shivered as the second voice continued to speak. “It’s not as if she’s planning on staying around. She made it very clear she was only here for the airbender. Once he finishes with the healers, they will both be on their way.”

_ The airbender. _ He was here. Crowley had assured himself that he was. His shirshu companion had made every indication of that fact, but hearing the words spoken out loud sent a thrill of energy down his spine. Some strange combination of guilt-tainted excitement. He paused, frown tugging at the corner of his mouth as the firebender tried to figure out just what he would have to feel guilty for.

“What does an airbender need with healers anyway?” the first man asked, gruffly. Crowley could picture him now, standing there with his arms folded across his chest like a petulant child. 

“Beats me.” A pause. “I heard Uriel was taking a group to the Spirit Oasis tonight. Whatever it is he wanted her help with, she wasn’t strong enough to accomplish earlier.”

“Really?” The man sounded genuinely surprised. “Must be something big.”

The pair fell into silence for a while as Crowley tried to figure out what to do. What did he know so far? The airbender was here to see a healer. They were going to some spirit oasis later that night and then he would likely leave with this other woman who had brought him here. That didn’t give Crowley a lot of time to do what he needed to do. How many people would be at the oasis with him? Would that be the best place to try and catch the airbender alone? And what was Crowley’s plan once he managed that not-so-small feat?

_ Find out if he’s the avatar.  _ That was all he needed to do.  _ If he isn’t, just let him be. _ What did he care if the man was an airbender or not? Crowley’s task had been to find the Avatar. Everything else was just noise.

“It’s getting late,” the second voice murmured, almost too soft for Crowley to hear. “I’ve got patrol duty first thing in the morning.” A chuckle echoed between them. It was clear what the first man thought of such a task. “See you tomorrow, Gabriel.” They bid their goodbyes and the firebender found himself alone, poised and ready to strike.

Was that what he should do? It seemed entirely too risky. Even if he knew for a fact that there was only one Water Tribe man around, that didn’t mean if he rocketed out of the icy ground that others wouldn’t come running. Crowley had to be careful. He still had time. The airbender wasn’t due at the Spirit Oasis until later that evening, and even after that, it sounded as though he wasn’t planning on leaving until morning. Crowley didn’t have to act right away. He could take his time. Do this right. He had that luxury. 

The man above him slowly began to meander away, turning his back to the spot where the firebender was currently crouched, balanced on the balls of his feet, toes just now starting to feel the edge of a chill. He wiggled them in an attempt to warm them up, wishing he could just blast fire around him to ward off the cold. With his luck, that would cause him to plunge feet first into the icy sea he knew to be some distance below. Better deal with the momentary discomfort. There would be time to warm up later.

Once he was sure the man was far enough away, Crowley began to move. He lifted his hands and quickly made away with the layer of ice above his head, breathing in deep as the cool night air hit his lungs. It was amazing how that one single breath could ignite a fire within him, warming him from head to toe as he stealthily pulled his way out and onto the icy ground above.

A quick look told the firebender that the universe was, indeed, on his side. He’d ended up in what appeared to be an alleyway, nestled between a series of iglo-like houses and the great outer wall that protected the city. Why two men would meet up here to gossip, Crowley would never understand. It wasn’t relevant to his current situation. What  _ was  _ relevant was the man several paces ahead of him, just now turning the corner to head toward the city.

Crowley shivered again as a breeze swept through the area. Somehow, he’d thought that being encased entirely in ice would have been colder than crouching out here in the open. Apparently, the tunnel had held in warmth much better than he expected. What he needed was a coat. Not only would it keep him from freezing to death, but it would also do wonders to hide his identity should he come across anyone on his journey to the oasis.

The firebender paused, a sly smile starting to creep its way across his face. That man standing here earlier had been wearing a coat. A big, thick, fluffy one, if his body’s heat signature was anything to go by. He would have to move quickly to catch up, but as long as the man didn’t get too much closer to the center of the city, Crowley may actually have a chance.

It was embarrassingly easy to retrieve the article. The man didn’t look behind him once as Crowley stealthily advanced, knocking him out with a single blow to the head with the hilt of his blade. Honestly, if this was the best warrior the Northern Water Tribe had to offer, they were in a sorry state should the Fire Nation ever choose to attack.

“Serves you right,” Crowley murmured, donning the fur trimmed coat and pulling the hood up over his head to hide his unnatural hair and eyes. He’d set the man up against the back of the nearest house in the most comfortable of positions he could think of, given the circumstances. The man would come to in an hour or so - a bit stiff and cold, he imagined, but nothing a little time by the fire wouldn’t fix. “I bet that girl wouldn’t have been so easy to take out, you know. You could learn a thing or two from her.”

Swift feet carried him through the city streets and toward the palace at the center. Crowley didn’t even realize where exactly he was headed until he saw the building rising several stories in the distance. There was...something there. He could feel the pull of it, tugging at him, drawing him closer. Was that  _ warmth _ he felt? In the midst of all this ice?

_ The Spirit Oasis. _ Crowley had no reason to know that was where he needed to go, and yet, something about that building and what lay behind called to him. It felt...familiar, somehow, in a way he could not explain.

“Here goes nothing,” the firebender muttered, gritting his teeth as he made his way toward that  _ warmth _ . So out of place in a land made from the cold. Not a single soul stopped him. Few even looked his way as he ascended the icy steps and slipped around the outer wall of the palace, and towards the back where he knew  _ something _ was waiting for him.

The second his strange, amber eyes took in the view before him, Crowley knew he had made it. Twin bridges lead from the back of the palace, across an icy lake toward an island at the center. A lush island, filled with the greenest trees and shrubs he’d ever seen. It was like an eternal spring. Filled with a warmth that should not belong here so far north. And yet, for reasons that he could not explain, this oasis felt right. It was almost as if the ice surrounding it was the piece that did not belong. As crazy as that sounded.

Crowley made quick work of crossing the nearest bridge. He was alone now, but had a strong feeling it wouldn’t be like that for long. The moon was slowly rising towards its zenith in the sky. If a healer was due to arrive here, it would likely be very soon.

Bypassing the pond and the fish swimming around inside, Crowley buried himself deep in the underbrush, in a place covered in shadows that would hide his form well, while still allowing him to peek outward in between the branches. He could see the pond clearly, watching the still waters ripple slightly as the koi swam back and forth. The torchlight from the palace was clear, marking where the guards were doing their rounds. Amber eyes studied their paths, marking one of many exit strategies, should the need arise. If leaving the way he came proved to be too difficult, there was always the back way out. Plenty of ice to burn his way through here, although, as the firebender took a quick glance behind him, he was not enjoying the look of the thunderous waterfall behind him. Best to stay clear of that, if at all possible.

Voices sounded before him and Crowley turned back toward the pond. There they were. A handful of Water Tribe - including several women - and the airbender. He walked with them, side by side with a woman who carried herself like he imagined a queen might, although she bore no obvious decorations. Was this the healer those two men had spoken of? Uriel? What  _ was _ this airbender doing here? What use could he have for a healer?

Crowley kept his eyes on the man and his intricate blue tattoos as he neared. He watched with stilled breath as the healer and airbender came to kneel at the water’s edge. The others spread out in a semi circle around them, their backs to Crowley as they stood and watched. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could shift around to better see around them, but very aware that his luck for the evening had likely run out. Best to stay where he was, even if the healer was currently blocked from his sight by a very gruff, old looking man. It was the airbender Crowley wanted anyway. Best to remember that.

He watched as the man stood, stripping down to his trousers before stepping in the pool. He watched as the airbender lay down, submerging himself up to his ears in the warm waters, floating on his back as blue eyes gazed up at the night sky. He watched as the healer’s hands appeared from behind the figure in front of him, and the water before her began to glow. 

It was the most brilliant shade of blue Crowley had ever seen. Comparable to the sky on the brightest of summer’s days, or the clear waters by Chameleon Bay. Even still, this water was filled with light like the moon or stars and seemed to shimmer with each minute movement of the almost-still waters. Crowley found himself barely able to breathe as he watched, not daring to blink. Slowly, the glow swept back and forth beneath the airbender’s outstretched form. Staring at it directly was practically blinding, and yet, the firebender found he could not look away. 

Something stirred inside him. A flutter of his heart or stomach or something else entirely, he didn’t know. Something in the back of his mind started to wonder what this all was, but the man found he didn’t entirely care. There was no amount of gears that his mind could turn to figure this out. He would simply have to wait and see what happened.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the light faded. Silence echoed around the people gathered at the water's edge, so sudden, Crowley was certain they could all hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest. It was certainly loud enough in his own ears to drown out any other sound. He could feel his limbs beginning to shake, fists clenching at the strands of grass by his knees where he knelt, still unable to look away from the sight before him.

Suddenly, the airbender’s form lurched upward with a ragged gasp. With that single breath of air, Crowley found that he, too, could breathe once more. Amber eyes widened as the man slowly dragged himself to the shore, spent beyond belief, pale arms barely able to keep him upright. Unable to put any weight on his legs at all, lest he stumble and fall.

Pale arms, shivering in the moonlight.

Pale arms - completely devoid of any tattoos.

_ I just want to be left alone. _

No. 

No. This couldn’t be. Why would the airbender go to such lengths to rid himself of his tattoos? What reason could he have to come all this way when certainly it was safer for him to just disappear into the Earth Kingdom once more?

The airbender’s face appeared in his mind’s eye, so close, Crowley thought he could reach out and touch it. Blue eyes shining with a fierce determination, reflecting the light of a lightning strike as he expertly pulled his companion out of its way. Burning with anger as he shot a blast of air upwards, the shower of rocks sending Crowley tumbling over the edge. 

Filled with horror as he screamed his friend’s name in agony.

_ “Have you not experienced enough death to last a lifetime? I know I have.” _

He’d gotten rid of his tattoos so he could, what? Lead a normal life? Blend into the crowd? Spend the rest of his life in hiding from the Fire Nation?

Protect the people he loved?

_ He’s lying, Crowley.  _ Now it was Kuzon’s turn to burn bright behind his closed eyes. When had he shut them? Why was he struggling to open them now?  _ You have to know that. There was no secret army. There was no pre-emptive strike. Sozin murdered thousands of people for no reason other than he wanted the Avatar out of his way. _

No. No. This wasn’t possible. Kuzon was the liar.  _ Aziraphale  _ was the liar. No person in their right mind would cause so much devastation without a just reason. There had to be a reason. There had to be - 

_ Open your eyes, Crowley.  _

He was trying. He was trying to open them, but they had somehow been glued shut. Crowley tried to lift his hands - tried to pry them open with his own fingernails, but his arms had suddenly turned to lead. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think as memory after memory, thought after thought washed over him.

_ Open your eyes and see what is going on. You are on the wrong side of history. The wrong side of this war. _

Crowley didn’t hear what was said next. He didn’t know if anything had been said at all above the rushing sound in his ears. A river, threatening to pull him under. He was shaking, gasping for breath, trying to keep his head above water. Surely, someone out there could hear him, and yet they didn’t come to his aid. The healer and other elders left the oasis like the world hadn’t been completely turned upside down. Like they weren’t all rocketing toward the sky or falling down an abyss that had no end to it.

It felt as if an eternity had gone by before the firebender was finally able to see again. His eyes fluttered open to find himself pressed against the warm earth, cheek stained with dirt where his tear soaked cheek had rubbed up against the exposed soil. Clusters of dense leaves assaulted his view through the blurred mess it had become. Slowly, he allowed his breaths to come to a reasonable pace. In, then out again. Steady, like a beating drum or a winding stream. In. Out. In. And then out.

He was in control of himself again. And that meant the next thing that happened was in Crowley’s hands. Did he slink away into the darkness? Burn a hole in the ice and tunnel his way back out? Did he face the man crouched by the pond, try to make sense of all that he had realized? Try to apologize and hope he might regain a sliver of his honor?

A soft rustle filled the air as Crowley stepped out from behind the bushes, decision apparently already made in his mind. The airbender was still there, sitting by the edge of the pond, knees tucked up to his chest, beads of water still glistening in the moonlight, dancing across his shoulders and down his exposed back. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then a still, soft voice echoed into the night, filled with enough pain and sorrow to pull Crowley apart at the seams.

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with already.”

His heart stuck in his throat, threatening to fall apart again as amber eyes gazed down at the man. Tears welled up, blurring his vision and Crowley forced them away. After everything this man had been through, what right did the firebender have to be upset? What right did he have to shed these tears he so desperately wanted to let fall?

“I don’t - “ his voice broke with emotion, but the man forced himself to continue. There was no turning back now. He would take whatever punishment was coming his way. “I never wanted that.”

A gruff laugh. One filled not with joy, or anger, but an immense tiredness that seemed to linger around them both. Aziraphale did not turn around. Did not bother to fix his eyes on Crowley’s face as he spoke. “Could have fooled me.”

The words cut deeper than Crowley cared to admit. What should he do now? Was it best to just leave? Put this whole thing behind him? Where would he go? What was he supposed to do now? Now that he knew that everything he’d believed up until this point was a lie. He had nothing. No one. No home to return to. No friends to call upon. Who would believe him? Who would stop long enough to hear his story?

“No,” he tried again, having no idea what he was trying to accomplish by talking to this man - this man who hated him so fiercely after everything he’d done. “I swear - ”

Aziraphale whirled around, rising to his feet in an instant as he squared off against Crowley, his blue eyes locking on the firebender’s face, not even bothering to look askance at their strangeness. “What makes you think your word means anything to me?” he hissed, tears pouring down his cheeks. The airbender kept his distance, fists clenched at his sides, but for the first time, he wasn’t turning tail to run. He wasn’t backing down. Crowley had him pressed up against the edge of a cliff with nowhere else to go.

“You hunted me down,” he cried, the sound of it causing Crowley’s heart to break. “You chased me halfway across the world. I haven’t slept, I can barely eat. I just wanted to be left alone, but you couldn’t let it be, could you?”

He paused, as if giving Crowley a chance to respond. When he did not, the light of fury faded from the man’s eyes, to be replaced only with a deep, dark sorrow.

“You killed my friend.”

Crowley found himself shaking his head, the tears he’d been trying so desperately to fight back overflowing in steaming trails down his cheeks. “No. I didn’t. I swear. I didn’t want her dead. It was Dagon who - “

Another harsh laugh echoed throughout the still night. “You think because the blade wasn’t in your hand, that you aren’t to blame for what happened?”

He didn’t know what to think anymore. Didn’t know why he was still standing here, trying to justify himself to the one person in the whole world least likely to listen, but Crowley couldn’t stop. He couldn’t walk away if his life depended on it. There were no words to describe the thoughts and feelings raging through him in this moment. He didn’t understand why, but he needed this man to understand that he hadn’t meant any of it. That he wasn’t as terrible a person as he must seem. 

If he could get Aziraphale to see that there was goodness in him, then maybe, just maybe, he could believe it too.

“No, of course I - It wasn’t my intention. I was sent after the Avatar, nothing more.” Crowley grasped wildly for the words he needed to say to make this man believe him, all the while knowing deep down in his heart that it was useless. “I swear, I didn’t know what they were planning. I didn’t know about the airbenders.” His voice caught in his throat. “I didn’t know.”

“ _ That’s not an excuse _ !” Aziraphale sobbed, his face contorting in pain. Crowley’s heart crumbled inside of his chest. He may have been able to steer clear of the war up until this point, but he was a part of it now. He’d done something truly unspeakable. Caused so much pain. He destroyed what little happiness this man had left, and here he was. What? Begging for forgiveness? How truly despicable. He was disgusting. He was a disgrace.

He was a monster.

“I know!” the firebender shouted back, unable to keep his emotions at bay any longer. “I know! I know it’s no excuse and I know that  _ nothing  _ I can say will make things better. Nothing I could do will bring her back. I did something terrible and I will regret it for every day of my life. I just - I didn’t know.” His throat constricted around the words again and Crowley brought a hand up to cover his mouth, hoping the gesture might help hold himself together a bit longer. “I didn’t know, and now I do, and - I just - what am I supposed to do now?”

Amber eyes rose to meet blue, the tears echoing across both of their faces. Firebender and airbender stood opposite each other under the light of the full moon, both gasping for breath as they tried desperately not to fall apart.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

And then, something...inexplicable happened. Above them, the heavens seemed to open up, appearing, at first, as a soft green glow that built in intensity each second that ticked by. Greens turned to blue, then purple, and then red, until all the colors were dancing above them in a brilliant display.

Crowley’s neck ached as he watched, but found he could not tear his eyes away. Here, transfixed by the gentle glow, there was no pain. There was no war, there was no guilt. There was no fear of rejection or knowledge that he had become the monster everyone always feared him to be. There was only peace and contentment, and a gentle warmth blanketing him, steadying his soul and giving him hope that things would turn out alright.

“All right.” 

The sigh was just loud enough for Crowley to hear. He paused, tearing his eyes away as he looked back at the airbender, round face reflecting the lights above them. The man looked so tired in that moment, blue eyes still turned skyward as the last trace of tears were wiped from his cheeks.

Then, with no further explanation, Aziraphale turned to him and offered up a sad smile. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

For a brief second, Crowley felt like turning around to see who this airbender was talking to. Certainly it wasn’t him. Aziraphale wanted nothing to do with him, and yet, they were the only ones here. He was sure of it. 

“Where are we going?” he found himself asking, reaching up a hand to dry his own tears. He waited, patiently, to see what the other man might say. Hoping he would have a plan of some sort. Words he could say to make sense of it all.

Instead, the other man simply shrugged, a tired thing that made Crowley want to kneel down at the edge of the pond and perhaps sleep for a century or two. Anything to give himself a bit of reprieve from this nightmare of a reality he had found himself thrust in.

“Away,” was all he said as he reached down to don his tunic once more. “Somewhere I’ve never been before. Somewhere where the memories don’t linger, I suppose.”

“What about your friend?” Crowley found himself asking as Aziraphale took a solid step toward the bridge leading back into the city. “The female waterbender.” He didn’t know her name or anything else about her, but it seemed the airbender knew who he was referring to. He forced another smile, looking back up at the sky once more, instead of at Crowley’s face.

“She’ll understand.” A pause. Another step, and then he turned, his gaze meeting Crowley's underneath the dancing spirit lights in a way that loosened the tightness in his chest just enough so he could breathe deeply again, making his stomach flutter at the sudden relief of it all.

“You coming?”

Without any reason to deny him, and nowhere else he could go, Crowley nodded. Reaching up, he adjusted the bag on his shoulders, hidden well beneath his oversized coat, and followed the airbender across the nearest bridge and out into the chill of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Weekend, everyone! I believe (with this update) we are just about halfway done with this fic! Crazy how time flies. There is a chance part of this second half will expand a bit, depending on how it goes when I get there, but according to my outline, this is the midway point. How are you guys liking it so far? Have there been any fun surprises? What do you think is going to happen next? I'm so excited to get into the next bit of the story, now that Crowley and Aziraphale are finally together. I hope that you are too!
> 
> Also, big news for those of you who may not follow me on social media - I applied for an open writing position on an Avatar the Last Airbender fan comic last month and was accepted! We are still in the development phase, but if you guys are interested in checking us out, you can find us on tumblr, twitter, and instagram! Avatar: New Beginnings is a fan comic telling the story of the second Avatar (after Wan) - an airbender named Hanami! The story is shaping up to be a really great one and I cannot wait to share with you all the incredible worldbuilding and storytelling this comic has to offer. No official posting date yet, but if you check us out on our social media, we will be sure to give you updates as they come <3
> 
> https://avatarhanami.tumblr.com/  
> https://twitter.com/AvatarHanami  
> https://www.instagram.com/avatarhanami/
> 
> Hope to hear from some of you :) You guys are the best!


	17. Turtle Ducks and Platypus Bears

The first few days were some of the most awkward in Aziraphale’s recent memory. He had no clue what to say to this man - this firebender who had followed him halfway across the world. It would seem, by the other man’s hesitancy to speak, that he did not seem to know what to say either, and they spent most of the days in silence.

Most of the time, Aziraphale forgot he was there, except for the moments when small hisses and murmurs escaped the man’s lips whenever he chastised the small, furry creature traveling with them. Aziraphale had no idea what it was. It looked like some kind of mammal, covered in fur and walking around on all fours. Instead of eyes, the animal had a long wrinkly snout that it used to smell  _ everything.  _ Everywhere they walked, that creature was racing around with her nose to the ground, in the air, running up to trees and bushes and flowers and anything she could get her nose into. It was quite an amusing thing to watch, especially whenever she ran off out of sight and the firebender nearly lost his mind with the worry he was so obviously trying to hide.

“Stop running off, you little shit,” the man mumbled for the sixth time that morning as he trudged through the bushes up ahead. Aziraphale tried to stifle his laughter as the creature wriggled around in his grasp, paws scrabbling at the air, trying to grab hold of it.

“You can literally see everything around us for miles with that nose of yours.” He huffed loudly, hoisting the animal up over his shoulder so her head and shoulders were reaching down his back. Another laugh bubbled up inside of Aziraphale as her bushy tail swung back and forth wildly, whipping up to whack him in the face. “You don’t need to go investigate every tiny thing we stumble upon.”

The tail swung again, smacking the firebender upon his nose and Aziraphale could hold his laughter in no longer. He let it escape with a firm shake of his stomach, causing the firebender to turn around, surprise written all over his face.

“Sorry,” the airbender announced, not entirely sure what he had to be sorry for. His companion didn’t seem upset, and even if he had, why should Aziraphale care? Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand why he was travelling with this man to begin with. He didn’t know a lot of things right now. Where he was going, what he planned to do next. Since Katone’s death, the entire plan had been to get to the North Pole and find himself a healer.

Now that he’d done that, Aziraphale felt more than a little lost. He’d been too emotional - too ashamed - to return with Anathema to join the Freedom Fighters. Yes, Aziraphale had done what he had to in order to survive, but he’d given up a huge part of himself in the process. He wasn’t quite ready to face anyone who might have the inclination to ask him why. The only choice left was to go off on his own - find some place to settle down and disappear.

Except, he wasn’t on his own. He was travelling with someone else. A firebender. A man who had traveled halfway across the world to find him. A man who Aziraphale hated with all his heart. And yet. And  _ yet. _

There was no way to explain it. No words that could describe what had lead him to invite this man along on his journey that night. Aziraphale should have left him by the side of that oasis. He should have walked away. He had wanted to walk away, wanted to turn his back on all the pain and the sorrow. But then the spirits had come alive. The skies had turned a brilliant green and blue and purple and he couldn’t explain it, but in that moment, his mind was filled with thoughts of Katone.

_ I’ve always wanted to go to the North Pole. There was this painting in the room where I slept as a little girl of the pure white tundra reflecting the lights of the spirits up above. I used to stare at it for hours on nights when I couldn’t sleep, just dreaming about flying among those lights with my glider. _

Katone had never gotten to live that dream. The fact that those lights had appeared the moment Aziraphale had considered turning his back on the man he blamed for her death - it had to mean something. And the only way Aziraphale could hope to discover more was to let the firebender tag along...wherever it was that he was going.

“Does she ever listen to you?” Aziraphale asked as the creature whined, still struggling to free herself so she could frolic around on the ground once more. “What is her name?”

The firebender glanced over at Aziraphale, his face entirely blank. The airbender found his eyes drawn to those peculiar amber orbs. They seemed so out of place amidst his otherwise perfectly normal features. He had a thin face, with a well defined jaw and a sharp nose that stuck out just a little bit farther than it ought to. His hair burned a bright, fiery red, unlike anything Aziraphale had ever seen. He’d traveled to all the corners of the world as a child and seen many different types of people, but the airbender had never seen someone like this before. 

“She does have a name,” Aziraphale prompted softly as those serpentine eyes bored into him. “Doesn’t she?”

A snort echoed from the other man’s mouth as he shifted his arms underneath the creature’s hind quarters, adjusting her weight so he could carry her better. Now that the feisty furball felt a bit more secure, she had stopped struggling, settling her full weight on the firebender’s shoulder as she lifted her long, wrinkled snout to sniff the air as they passed.

“‘Course she does,” he responded, hesitantly, almost as if up until this moment, he hadn’t even been sure the creature was a ‘she’. “It’s uhhh…”

Aziraphale smiled, moving his gaze from those striking golden eyes, with their thin, vertical pupils, over to the creature now resting comfortably on the man’s shoulder. “I thought I heard you calling her “Little” something earlier?” he prompted, wondering if this man was nervous around him or simply didn’t care to talk. 

“That’s right,” he mumbled, cheeks and the tips of his ears turning a shade closer to his hair color. “I called it - her - Little...Bit?”

Once again, Aziraphale bit back his laugh. That was most certainly  _ not _ what he had called the creature, but it could work. She was a small thing, at least for now. The airbender assumed based on the size of her paws, that she would grow much larger. 

“Bit, huh,” Aziraphale teased, causing the man’s gaze to flicker momentarily down to the dirt path they were walking along. They had crossed back over into Earth Kingdom territory a few days prior, and were more or less heading South. Aziraphale didn’t have a final destination in mind. He was hoping he might know it when he saw it. For now, as long as they stayed away from the Fire Nation, all would be well. “Short for Bitty, I assume?”

The firebender nodded his head vigorously, his eyes snapping up, flooded with relief. “Yes,” he exclaimed, quickly clearing his throat as he shifted the creature to his other shoulder, despite her high pitched protests. “Bitty. That’s exactly it. Because she’s so small. You, know. For a shirshu, anyway.”

Ah. A shirshu. That’s what she was. Aziraphale had heard the term in passing a long time ago, but had never seen one up close. In fact, he realized he’d never even seen a drawing of one in passing. No wonder he hadn’t recognized what Bitty was the first time he saw her, curled up asleep in this man’s canoe.

“Will she get much bigger?” the airbender found himself asking before he had the sense to hold his question back. Aziraphale was torn. On the one hand, this man could still very well be dangerous. He was a firebender, a bounty hunter, who had apparently been sent to locate the Avatar. If that claim was true, it was possible that Aziraphale really was safe with him. The man had every opportunity to harm him at the North Pole, and over the several nights they had slept along their journey since, yet he had done nothing of the sort. 

On the other hand, they were both on their own in the wold now. Aziraphale had no family, no place to call home. He hadn’t in a very long time. He supposed this man was now in the same boat. Of course, there was nothing preventing him from going back to his home in the Fire Nation. Not yet, anyway. He hadn’t technically done anything worthy of treason. If he stayed with Aziraphale, who knows what might happen.

“Oh yeah,” the man responded, patting Bitty lightly on her back. “Even the smallest of shirshu’s are large enough for at least one rider.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale hummed, reaching out a hand to scratch at her ears. Bitty turned her head, the bare skin of her nose trembling as she sniffed every last of his fingers.

A jolt of momentary fear shot down his spine as she let loose a sharp bark. He pulled his hand back in alarm, only to find her shifting around in the firebender’s arms to face him, tail waving wildly back and forth.

“Yes, yes,” the other man muttered, finally releasing the shirshu to the ground. She immediately rushed over in front of Aziraphale, nearly tripping him as he tried to avoid her front paws. “We’ve already established, you found him. Good on you. What do you want, some sort of treat?”

That exact moment Aziraphale’s stomach growled so loudly, he was sure anyone within a dozen or so miles could hear it. Heat rushed to his face as he stopped in his tracks, attention totally focused on the shirshu now sitting patiently at his feet.

“I guess stopping for a quick snack wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” the firebender offered. Aziraphale’s eyes drifted back up to his face as the other man gave a forced smile. The airbender smiled back, his heart still filled with worry. He didn’t know if he would ever get used to travelling with someone like this. How long would they stay together? Was it worth trying to get to know him? Or should Aziraphale simply be as polite as the situation required and part ways amicably when the time came?

They’d been travelling along a quiet river for the past few days that Aziraphale assumed would empty out into the Mo Ce Sea. From there, he assumed they would keep heading south. It was really the only direction to go, at this point. West would lead them right into Fire Nation hands and to the East there were mountains he didn’t fancy trying to cross. It would be much easier to circle around toward Omashu and then head east once they had cleared The Great Divide.

“Running a bit low,” the other man’s voice drifted toward Aziraphale as he and Bitty settled down by the calm waters. Blue eyes glanced up to see the firebender take a seat upon a boulder several feet away. He was reaching into his bag, pulling out the last few pouches of berries, dried meats, and breads they had tucked away. They would have had more if Aziraphale had gone back inside the city to gather his things, but there hadn’t been a good opportunity. He knew that if Anathema spotted him, she would try and convince him to come back with her. And if anyone spotted the firebender by his side, there would be no way to avoid a fight.

Losing his bag and supplies was a setback, certainly, but not one he couldn’t fix once they arrived in the next town. Losing his glider had been much more painful, but continuing to travel with it was like walking around with a target on his back. He’d given up the tattoos to keep himself safe, and now, he also had to give up airbending. Aziraphale was no longer an Air Nomad. He would from now on, forever be a simple, non-bending, Earth Kingdom citizen.

“I’m sure we’ll find a village soon,” Aziraphale responded, lifting his hands to catch the portion of bread as the other man tossed it his way. He made a clicking sound with his teeth, and after one final sniff in his direction, Bitty scrambled over to him, eagerly awaiting her meal.

Silence fell between them once more and Aziraphale found himself unsure of what to say. Eyes drifting to the calm waters before him, the airbender slowly broke off a piece of the bread in his hands, popping it into his mouth, his mind already far away.

What did he do now? Where should he go? Going back to Omashu would be suicide. Even if this firebender had seen the errors in his ways, there were at least two more out there that most certainly had not. Two that knew his face, knew the place he’d once called home. Where else was there? Aziraphale could head to Ba Sing Se. The Earth Kingdom capital was as far from the war as any place could be. Its impenetrable wall would offer as much safety as Aziraphale could hope to achieve, and yet, the idea of living in a place with that many people made his stomach squirm.

If he could live anywhere, realistically, what would he want? Someplace quiet, he supposed. With views of the water. It didn’t much matter to him if it was the ocean, or a vast lake, or even something smaller. Aziraphale hadn’t lived near water growing up, and travelling over the vast blue expanse atop Lona had been some of his favorite memories growing up. 

_ Go to Kyoshi. I have a cousin there. She can take you in. I’ll come find you in a few days. _

Bumi had wanted him to go to Kyoshi. If he did, he could see his friend again. The thought of reuniting with Bumi was certainly a tempting one, but was it worth the risk? Did anyone searching for him have any clue he might go there? He didn’t think so, but wasn’t it better to be safe than sorry in a situation like this? Wouldn’t it be better to spend a few years somewhere else, until they gave up looking before he met with anyone he used to know?

A sharp quack tugged Aziraphale out of his thoughts. He turned his head rapidly to one side and saw, to his amazement, a whole flock of turtle ducks had congregated at the water’s edge beneath the firebender’s feet. 

For a moment, Aziraphale thought they had approached the pair to try and beg for food, but soon enough, he saw evidence that proved his initial assumption to be incorrect. With widening blue eyes, he watched as several of the younger animals waddled out of the water and came to settle on the rocky shore, in the area directly surrounding the firebender’s feet. They didn’t appear to be frightened or cautious of him at all, although they gave Aziraphale a wide berth. 

“Made some new friends, I see?” the airbender teased as one of the turtle ducks settled right on top of his companion’s foot, much to the other man’s chagrin. How bizarre. And what made the interaction all the more fascinating was the look of pure annoyance on the firebender’s face. As if this very thing had happened to him more than once. 

The other man scowled as he looked down at the collection of turtle ducks at his feet. Gently, he pushed one to the side, freeing his boot for a moment before another one waddled over to take its spot. “They’re not my friends,” he growled, amber eyes glaring down at the flock. “They are all confused, is what they are.”

Aziraphale clicked his tongue, holding out a small piece of bread in the direction of the nearest turtleduck. To his credit, the creature did look up at him, cocking its head slightly to one side, but it did not venture over. Instead, it drifted closer to the firebender, keeping with its flock and whatever safety it thought the other man could provide.

“Don’t waste your time,” the firebender sighed, resigning himself to whatever fate had befallen him. “They won’t leave for anything, til I go somewhere they can’t follow.”

A small smile crept up onto Aziraphale’s face. “I had no idea you were such the animal whisperer.”

He bit back a laugh as the firebender fixed his amber gaze on Aziraphale. The midday sun filtering down through the nearby trees cast most of his face in dappled shadows, but the golden color shone through brilliantly, catching Aziraphale by surprise. Once you got past their bizarre nature, his eyes really weren’t that unnerving to look at. In fact, in certain lighting such as this, they were really quite marvelous.

“I’m not,” the man insisted as Bitty hopped up on the rock beside him, placing both front paws on his leg. Aziraphale flashed the man a knowing smile, which he responded to with a single groan. “I swear. I’m not doing anything. Animals just  _ like _ me. For some ridiculous reason.”

“All animals?” Aziraphale found himself asking. It seemed improbable, but his companion seemed to believe it to be true. All the evidence pointed to that very fact, but it still felt a bit out of place. “I find that difficult to believe.”

Rustling in the bushes behind them caused both men to pause in their conversation. Heart hammering in his chest, Aziraphale turned slowly to see a furry brown creature, about Bitty’s size, lumbering out of the forest in their direction. From here, Aziraphale didn’t have a great look at it, but he could tell it had thick fur, and a long flat tail that dragged behind it as it walked.

“Oh,” he murmured softly as the creature drew closer, finally realizing what it was. “How cute.”

“No,” the firebender’s response was immediate. Sharp. Nervous, even. “No, not cute. Trouble. We should get out of here  _ now _ . Before that cub’s mother shows up.”

Aziraphale frowned, tearing his gaze away from the platypus bear cub. “What if he’s lost?”

The firebender didn’t miss a beat. He was already shoving his food back into the bag slung around his shoulders, eyes mysteriously shut. What was he doing? Was he listening for the sound of an adult platypus bear traipsing through the forest? Surely it would be better to use his eyes to spot such a thing, wouldn’t it?

“Don’t know, don’t care.” The turtle ducks at his feet quacked in protest as the firebender rose to his feet. He tossed a handful of crumbs into the stream for good measure, which lured some of the flock away to follow the tasty morsels. Not all of them were enticed by the food, choosing instead to try and hoist themselves up the side of the boulder. Webbed feet were no match for the rough stone and they quickly gave up. 

Aziraphale’s eyes drifted over to the cub and saw he had reached the other side of the boulder and was standing up on his hind legs, looking up at the firebender with curious brown eyes, his bill tilted gently to one side. 

“Go on now, shoo!” the firebender scolded, and Aziraphale opened his mouth to chastise the man, only to pause mid thought when he realized he had no idea what this man’s name was.

_ No.  _ That couldn't be right. Surely he’d told Aziraphale his name. He had to have. So why couldn’t the airbender remember? He racked his brain, thinking back over each small conversation they'd had, trying to remember. Still, he came up with nothing. 

“I mean it, fluffy,” the firebender was still hissing, standing atop the rock as he looked down at the baby platypus bear. “Get going. Nothing to see here.”

“Oh, would you relax?” Aziraphale sighed, taking half a step forward towards the cub. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Even though his eyes were no longer on the firebender’s face, Aziraphale could feel the amber orbs narrowing, boring into the back of his neck. With a soft thud, the firebender leapt down to stand beside him, positioning himself in the space between Aziraphale and the other creature, arm extended, slowly backing the two of them away.

“Are you serious?” Aziraphale found himself asking, but his voice cut out when the firebender turned his head around and fixed his wide-eyed amber gaze on the airbender’s face. There was something about him - something that sent a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. Did he look nervous? Afraid? Surely someone as adept as he was could get himself out of any sort of trouble they may find themselves in.

“I’m not worried about him hurting me,” he murmured, eyes darting to the forest. If he were an elk-fox, all of his fur would be standing up on end. “I’m worried about  _ her _ .”

For a moment, nothing happened. Aziraphale followed the other man’s gaze into the deeper parts of the forest, peering in through the dappled light, looking for some form of danger. The brush was thick, soft dirt floor barely covered with any leaves, making it easy for something to sneak up on them. Still, Aziraphale didn’t see or hear anything notable. So why was this man so on edge? What had he seen that Aziraphale hadn’t?

Seconds later, he spotted her. A thin bill pushed its way between the shrubs, followed quickly by a pair of sparkling black eyes, broad shoulders rippling with muscles beneath her shiny fur, and four giant paws with claws that would rip right through them in an instant.

Aziraphale froze. The cub was momentarily distracted by the turtle ducks still protesting the interruption to their lunch, oblivious to the fact that his mother was present and very unsettled by the absence of her cub. He willed the small thing to turn around and return to her side, but he simply toddled forward towards the water’s edge, pawing at the fluffy shelled creatures as they swam just out of reach.

The mother platypusbear hadn’t seemed to notice her offspring. She had, however, spotted the firebender and airbender along the shores, trying to stay as still as possible and make themselves as opposite as threatening as they could, but it didn’t seem to be working. The platypus bear had fixed her gaze on them, snout wrinkling in the beginnings of a snarl.

“You have any bright ideas?” he heard the firebender whisper in his ear, the warmth of his breath tickling Aziraphale’s cheek as it went by.

“Me?” the airbender responded, never once taking his eyes off the large creature as it lumbered toward them, growl growing ever louder. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess to begin with.”

The firebender scoffed. “As if I asked for this to happen.” He took another step back, arm bumping into Aziraphale’s chest as he urged the airbender to do the same. Almost as if he were trying to protect Aziraphale. The action would have been sweet, if it hadn’t been soured by the many attempts this man had made to do just the opposite. “I really don’t want to fight her.”

Aziraphale blinked. Fight her? Would this man really do that? Wouldn’t it be better to put up a wall of fire and make a run for it? 

He chanced a glance at his companions face, heart leaping as the sound of a ferocious roar met his ears. The platypus bear charged and Aziraphale had no time to think, only act. Before the man beside him could take in a single breath, the airbender was already flying. He was rocketing up into the air, pulling his companion along with him out of the way.

“Stay back,” Aziraphale ordered the second they landed, several dozen feet away from the shoreline and back toward the forest the platypus bear had come from. She had made it to the water’s edge and was already turning around, jaws parted, sharp teeth glistening in the sunlight. It wouldn’t be long before she decided to charge them again, he was sure of it.

Behind him, the firebender began to utter a protest, but Aziraphale was already on the move. He could have done any number of things in that moment. Blast her with a gale of wind. Slice into her with a sharp blade of air, send several trees tumbling forward to block her path to them. Although he despised it at times, Aziraphale was a trained warrior. He knew how to fight when he had to.

This was not one of those times. Taking a deep breath, the airbender stepped forward. He brought both hands up in front of his body and took his stance, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a gentle dance. The wind around them shifted like water against the shore as he directed it to his left, letting it swirl around the young cub still at the river’s edge before bringing the breeze to his panicked mother’s side.

Everything changed suddenly. The moment the mother platypus bear caught a drift of her cub’s scent, she visibly relaxed, wide head swinging to one side. Aziraphale released his breath and took as step back as she changed course, watching her veer alongside the water until she came upon him. He smiled, confident the danger had passed, and turned back to his companion to find the firebender staring at him, mouth slightly agape.

“Sometimes fighting is the answer,” Aziraphale announced, coming to stand by his side. The shrishu, Bitty, had found her way to his feet and was standing up on her hind legs, clawing at his waist, but he paid her no mind. His eyes were focused entirely on the airbender, causing a soft heat to rise to his rounded cheeks. “Sometimes, there is another way to be found.”

“Right,” he murmured after a moment, reaching down to push Bitty aside as he took several steps away from mother and her cub, happily standing together with the river to their backs. “Let’s save your lessons of wisdom for once we’ve put some distance between us and them, yeah?”

Aziraphale laughed, blue eyes squinting as a cloud shifted by above, sending the sun right onto his face. “Very well. I will follow your lead…”

He trailed off, realizing once again that he had no clue what this man’s name was. Sensing his discomfort, the firebender looked up and offered a weak smile, eyes never really leaving the shoreline. Ever vigilant, this one.

“Crowley,” the man finally said, shifting to meet his gaze. With a deep sigh that seemed to deflate him just a bit, he blinked, glancing away once more. “My name is Crowley.”

Aziraphale smiled, bright and wide and for the first time since he’d laid eyes on this man weeks ago, filled with a genuine warmth. He couldn’t quite explain it. Maybe it was the leftover adrenaline still rocketing through his system. Maybe it was the way this man, Crowley, had dared to stand in the way of a charging platypus bear looking to protect her young. Either way, it didn’t seem to matter. Aziraphale was grateful they were here on this journey together.

“Nice to meet you, officially, Crowley,” he responded, putting out his hand for Crowley to take. The man looked back over at him for a moment, confusion clouding his dazzling, molten eyes. When Aziraphale did not move, even after a few seconds, he finally reached out to grasp the welcome, gripping the airbender’s hand, sending a tingle of energy up his arm and down his spine. Crowley’s hand was warm, his grip firm, and as crazy as it sounded, it made the airbender feel just a little bit safe. Safer than he had felt in a very long time.

“You can call me Aziraphale.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your words of encouragement last chapter. I'm so glad to have all of you reading along on this journey. This chapter was a fun little filler that held some hidden nuggets of importance. We will get back into the action with the next update, so stay tuned!
> 
> P.S. Just trying to gauge interest here - I've been practicing my watercolor skills a lot recently, and am working on making a comic out of one of my other stories as a way to improve my skills. I was toying with the idea of illustrating this fic too (in comic form) at some point once that project is finished. Is that something you all would enjoy?


	18. The Brig

Everything was going smoothly until that heart wrenching scream pierced through the night, sending chills down Crowley’s spine and bringing panic into Aziraphale’s deep blue eyes. Crowley saw the change in an instant. One second, the airbender was sitting down, his back against a large oak tree with Bitty curled up on his lap. The next, that sound erupted somewhere close by and Aziraphale’s face contorted in pain. He went from relaxed to alert, already reaching to move the shirshu from her resting spot. Already ready to spring into action.

It sounded like a child. Scared and angry and on the verge of panic. Crowley was on his feet in an instant, moving to Aziraphale’s side and bringing a single finger to his lips as they took off through the forest toward the sound. They had reached the mouth of the river earlier that day and had been walking along the shores of the Mo Ce Sea until they had decided to rest for the night. Technically still Earth Kingdom territory, but close enough to the Fire Nation that it wouldn’t be completely unbelievable to see a small fleet of ships nearby or a whole platoon of soldiers. As far as Crowley was aware, the Navy had been performing raids over the past several years on coastal towns. Best thing to do would be to keep their heads low and out of any trouble until they knew what was going on.

That plan went out the window the moment Crowley and Aziraphale reached the sound of the screaming. From his vantage point squatting down behind a thick row of thorny bushes, Crowley could see a young boy struggling to break free of an older man’s grasp. He could only see the backs of their heads and brief glimpses of the sides of their faces, but the boy looked to be no older than eleven or twelve - a scrawny thing, with neatly combed brown hair and dark rimmed glasses that had been knocked askew.

The man holding him appeared too young to be the boy’s father. An older brother, maybe? He had similar hair and glasses, although his hair was not so neatly combed to one side. At first, Crowley thought this man was the reason for the boy’s screams. He was crouched down, hands gripping the boy’s shoulders as he fought to escape, breath hollering from his lungs, but after a moment, the firebender realized this wasn't the case. This other man, whoever he was, was trying to protect the boy - trying to calm him down. Trying to prevent him from lashing out at something much more dangerous.

Fire Nation soldiers.

“Give them back!” the boy was screaming, his body thrashing from side to side as the messy-haired man held him firmly in place. “You had no right to take them!  _ Let them go!” _

Three soldiers stood on the bank before them, the silhouette of two large ships anchored out in the bay behind them. They were sneering, laughing at the child as he screamed at them, tears spilling from his eyes.

“What are you gonna do?” One of them teased, causing the other two to chuckle at the thought.  _ “Fight  _ us? You couldn’t lift a rock if you tried. Not even with your bare hands.”

“Yeah,” the second one chimed in. “Without those little bender friends of yours, the two of you ain’t worth much.”

“I’ll blow up your ship,” the boy responded without missing a beat. “Just you wait and see.” He took in a deep, ragged breath, ignoring the older man’s pleas to remain quiet. “I’ll build a bomb so powerful it will blast you all the way back to Ember Island. It will blow a hole so wide through that hunk of steel you call a boat that you’ll sink to the bottom of the  _ ocean! _ ”

The fist came out of nowhere, striking so hard and so fast that the sound of it made Crowley jump in alarm. He watched as the boy fell to the ground. Hard. The man kneeling beside him shifted immediately to block any additional blows, but it would seem like one was enough. The soldier who had struck him sneered, then took a step back, glancing at his comrades with an almost bored expression.

“Come on,” the one who, up until that point had remained silent, began. “We’re wasting our time here. Captain Hastur will have our heads if we’re late for our shift again.”

Amber eyes widened at the revelation. Crowley recognized that name, and the image of the two ships anchored so close together suddenly made sense. They weren’t just dealing with any Fire Nation crew. These were Hastur and Ligur’s ships - two of the most notorious and bloodthirsty captains to ever have sailed in the Royal Navy. Crowley was sure that if there wasn’t a war going on right now, those two would have defected to become mercenaries or pirates. There wasn’t much excitement to be had in peaceful times, and Hastur and Ligur both lived for the rush of battle and conquest.

In front of their hiding position, one of the soldiers held out his fist and it burst into flame. A presence next to him shifted as Aziraphale moved to stand, but a firm hand on his arm stopped the airbender in his tracks. Crowley shook his head, not daring to say a word for fear that they might be caught. If those soldiers found them now, Crowley may be able to talk his way out of the situation, but Aziraphale? His stomach hurt at the thought of what they might do to him. Even free of his tattoos, the man was very obviously  _ not  _ Fire Nation. 

Only when the soldiers had climbed into their rowboat and disappeared onto one of the two very large Fire Nation ships did Crowley finally relax his grip on Aziraphale’s arm. The airbender was on his feet in an instant, shifting silently forward, as if he was floating. Not a sound was heard as his feet practically flew across the forest floor, taking him right to the non-benders’ sides.

“Wha-” the older man spluttered as his eyes fell on Aziraphale’s face. “Aziraphale! How - ”

The airbender shook his head rapidly, blue eyes flickering up to the ships parked in the bay. They were far enough away from the center of the bay that the Fire Nation soldiers patrolling on deck probably couldn’t see who they were.  _ Probably.  _ They could, however, see the sudden appearance of two new human-like figures along the shore, and that alone could be cause for them to come back, or decide that enough was enough and light them all up for simply being an annoyance.

The other man, whose name Crowley still hadn’t caught, closed his mouth instantly and rose to his feet. Without saying a word, he tugged the still crying boy away from the shore, placing his own body between the child and anything that might come for him from the dark shapes looming against the murky waters before them.

Crowley did nothing, choosing to wait and see what might happen. He was surprised to find out that Aziraphale knew these two. Out of all the people in the Earth Kingdom they could have run into, they happened to be people the airbender was on a first name basis with. How did he know them? Did they use to live in Omashu? Had he met them before he settled into the city? They couldn’t be from his days in the temples - these were non-benders. The soldiers had said so themselves. So who were these two? And why did Aziraphale look so panicked?

“Newton, where are Kuzon and the others?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley felt his blood run cold. Of  _ course _ . Of course these two would be members of Kuzon’s gang. It had been a few weeks since Crowley had run into the firebender, but they weren’t too far from the forest he’d passed through then. It made sense that, as a resistance group, they would move to locations where Fire Nation soldiers had been spotted. Naturally, with two warships so close to Earth Kingdom lands, the group would find themselves here.

“We were ambushed,” the man named Newton responded, still crouched on the ground beside the boy. They’d pulled back from the shore enough that Crowley was certain they could no longer be seen from the ships. There was too much brush, too many thick branches obscuring any line of sight in either direction. He took a half step back, reaching out an arm to part some of the nearby ones, focusing his gaze on the metallic structures bobbing up and down with the gentle ocean waves.

“The Fire Nation soldiers took all of them away,” Newton explained. “Kuzon, Anathema, the children. They didn’t care that they were just kids, Aziraphale. I don’t think any were too badly injured, but there’s no telling what those soldiers are going to do - “

Aziraphale silenced Newton with a single, soft ‘shhh’ as he brought a hand to the man’s shoulders. The boy, who had quieted down upon seeing the airbender again, shifted his puffy, red eyes over to Crowley, then back again as he sniffed, bringing up the sleeve of his tunic to wipe away the moisture from his face and nose. His glasses were still a bit cockied from the blow he’d taken to the face, but not broken from what the firebender could see. It appeared that his nose, as well, had made it out of the scuffle in one piece.

“Don’t worry about them,” the airbender soothed, his blue eyes drifting up to meet Crowley’s face. The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he took in their intensity - a stormy blue in the darkness of night. He felt his breath catch in his throat and found it impossible to look away. Why did he feel like this man was about to do something extremely brave and unbelievably stupid? And how did he know it would be up to him to stop it?

“We’ll go and rescue them. You stay here with Wensleydale - make sure he’s ok. We’ll have the others back in a jiffy.”

Crowely stared at Aziraphale, wide-eyed. Surely he’d heard that wrong. What in the world would possess the airbender to think the two of them could take on an entire ship filled with Fire Nation soldiers, let alone  _ two _ ? It was insanity. It was suicide.

“You’re joking, right?” he asked, a nervous chuckle making its way into his voice. Aziraphale’s expression did not change and Crowley found himself glancing back out at the ships for a moment, trying to figure out what detail he had missed. What bit of information had he overlooked that would lead this very intelligent man to believe he could take on such a dangerous challenge? “We can’t go in there.”

“I don’t have a choice, Crowley.” The way he said it - so sure and final. It made Crowley’s stomach twist inside of him. Didn’t Aziraphale see how dangerous this was? “My friends are in trouble and I have the chance to help them. Who would I be if I didn’t take advantage of that opportunity?”

For a moment, Crowley remained silent, his mind spinning in circles as he tried to figure out what to do. Once again, he found himself looking out at the ships floating in the bay, trying to figure out a way around this. Was it possible to sneak aboard and free a bunch of benders without getting caught? What would happen to them if they were seen? Crowley may be able to talk his way out of trouble, but not Aziraphale. It was too dangerous. After everything he’d been forced to give up, he couldn’t just throw it all away for some people he barely knew. Kuzon was smart, he knew the risks of what he chose to do with his life. He should have expected something like this to happen.

“I can’t just leave them.”

Lowering his hand, Crowley let the branches fall as he took a step closer to Aziraphale. His heart hammered away in his chest, like the rapid beating of a tanggu drum. Ignoring it as best he could, the firebender fixed his gaze on his companion, willing him to understand. 

“Listen, Aziraphale,” Crowley reiterated, practically begging the airbender to take a moment and  _ think _ about what he was trying to do. “I know you’ve had your run in with firebenders before. I know you can handle yourself, but you don’t know these people like I do.” He paused, taking a deep breath and fixing his gaze on Aziraphale’s, tried not to think about how his palms tingled a bit and his heart thudded rapidly in his chest when the man didn’t automatically glance away. 

“Hastur and Ligur are brutal. If they even  _ suspect _ you of airbending, they will either kill you on sight or drag you back to the Fire Nation, torture you for information about the Avatar, and  _ then  _ kill you. Please, for goodness sake, let me handle this.”

Blue eyes widened in the dim light and Crowley’s mouth went dry as he realized what he’d just suggested. Behind him, Crowley could still feel Newton and Wensleydale’s presence, their eyes fixed solely on him as he announced his plan to save their friends.

“You can’t be serious,” Aziraphale protested, and Crowley felt a surge of energy pooling in his chest, right alongside the unmistakable jolt of panic. He wasn’t going to listen. He was going to insist on coming with Crowley. He was going to get himself hurt or killed and Crowley  _ could not _ let that happen. Not again. “If the captains of those ships are as bad as you say they are, all the more reason for me to come along. You’ll need backup.”

“Aziraphale,  _ please _ .” He didn’t understand exactly why it was so important for the airbender to listen to him now, Crowley just knew that the only thing that would stop this sinking feeling inside of his stomach was if he heard Aziraphale promise to stay away. “I swear to you, I can get them all out safely, undetected. I was born for this, trained for this. I know what I’m doing. Please, you have to trust me.”

He paused, heart frozen in his chest, waiting for the inevitable rejection. The questions. The claim that Aziraphale could never trust him. Not after what he had done. Crowley understood, he really did. If the roles were reversed, he likely wouldn’t have trusted Aziraphale, but what could he do?If it came down to it, Crowley would do whatever it took to keep this man safe from the Fire Nation’s grasp, but he would feel much more at ease if he wasn’t constantly worrying about his companion’s safety. 

Finally, a low, deep sigh echoed from the man before him. Blue eyes fell, only slightly, shifting over to the two non-benders standing not very far off. “Alright, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley could have hugged him if he weren’t so afraid of spooking the man. “But if you aren’t back in two hours, I’m coming in after you. Nothing you can say or do will convince me otherwise.”

A single nod and Crowley was off, heading not toward the shoreline where he had first caught sight of the Fire Nation soldiers, but in a more northward direction. If he was going to get himself onto one of those ships undetected, it would certainly not be by charging them head on. This kind of mission called for stealth. And what better way to sneak up on a Navy ship than by coming at it from underneath?

Despite it being his opposite element, Crowley didn’t mind water all that much. Sure, he much preferred it when he could see what sort of creatures were hidden inside, but these dark, murky waters did nothing to break his resolve. If rescuing Kuzon and the others was what he had to do to keep Aziraphale safe and start to make up for all he’d done wrong, Crowley was ready to swim across the entire ocean, if need be.

Luckily for him, the distance to his target wasn’t nearly as far. Crowley took only a moment to take in his surroundings once he reached the bank. There wasn’t much to see. Low hanging clouds drifted by overhead, blocking out any light that might expose him. A rocky outcrop sat between him and the anchored ships, providing him enough cover for him to submerge himself in the bay without being spotted by any of the soldiers patrolling on deck. All that was left to do was get a little bit wet.

The firebender made quick work of his shoes and outer robe, not wanting the extra weight of unnecessary clothing to slow him down. He had no idea what this escape was going to look like. It could very easily involve swimming for his life as he tried to escape dozens of fireball catapulted his way. The faster he could move through the water that could protect him, the better.

After Crowley had stripped down to only his trousers, the firebender gritted his teeth and slowly waded forward, making sure to keep himself entirely behind the massive boulders before him until he was at least chest deep in the murky liquid. The chill of it shot through his entire body, sending lightning bolts of energy throughout - from the base of his skull to the tips of his toes. Crowley bit back a shiver and, taking a deep breath, plunged himself underneath the waves.

Eyesight was useless down here, but Crowley didn’t need it. Not entirely. He has specifically positioned himself closest to the ship those soldiers had returned to, which he  _ hoped _ was the one that was holding all the prisoners. All he had to do was swim straight ahead and, if he somehow veered off course, use the heat from the ships furnace to guide him. Right now, it was the only thing he could sense while submerged in the icy northern waters. And that suited him just fine.

Stroke after stroke, Crowley propelled himself forward. He counted the seconds as they went by, estimating how fast he was swimming and how much further he had to go. Coming up for air now would be as foolish as hurling a fireball at the ships from the shoreline or shouting at the top of his lungs just exactly what he thought of Hastur and Ligur, but he needn’t have worried. Even though the water was colder than he’d expected it to be, and much colder than any waters he’d trained in, the firebender was able to make it to the ship in a single breath, his lungs not even beginning to burn by the time his fingertips brushed up against the hard, metal surface.

He didn’t fully understand how he could do something like that. Anyone else that Crowley knew would have made it a third of the distance before they felt the need to come up for air, but he just...didn’t. It was one of the many things that set him apart from ordinary people. This. Fauna flocking to his side. His extra sense. His  _ eyes _ . All inexplicable things, but if they helped Crowley do his job and accomplish what he wanted to accomplish, who was he to complain?

Now that he’d made it to the ship, the next phase of his plan began. Each bit was slightly more difficult than the last, and this particular part required him to wait, keeping himself as close to the side of the ship as possible, while he waited for his window of opportunity.

Scaling the side of the ship was difficult, but not impossible. It would be pointless, however, if he made it all the way to the top only to tumble over the side and find himself face to face with Fire Nation soldiers. Crowley had to wait until he was sure there was no one around. Now that he had surfaced again, he could feel the presence of the people on deck. There were two of them making the rounds, fixing their gaze outward as they looked for any signs of trouble.

One was at the bow of the ship, completely on the other side of the smokestacks and not a threat at all to Crowley’s plan. The other was a bit closer, hovering toward the stern on the port side. He  _ could _ start making his way up the side of the ship, but if this soldier decided to turn around, Crowley would be spotted for sure. So, he waited. Feet kicking rhythmically beneath him as he kept his head just above water.

As soon as the soldier began making their way up to the front of the ship, Crowley made his move, fingertips burned red hot as he focused his breathing, boring small holes into the side of the ship as he hoisted himself up, muscles in his arms straining all the while. Eventually, he was able to pull himself up out of the water far enough that his feet were exposed, giving him a bit more leverage. It was difficult work, slow going at times, but Crowley was convinced he would be able to pull it off. This was child’s play compared to what came next.

The moment he made it to the top of the ship, Crowley flipped over the railing and moved to hide behind the closest thing in sight. By the looks of it, he was near the uppermost parts of the furnace. The firebender glanced up, watching as a thin trail of smoke billowed up into the darkened sky. That was a good sign. A little bit of smoke meant the ship was idling, waiting for something to happen, which made it very unlikely they would drive off while he was below deck looking for the prisoners. 

There was a reason Crowley had chosen the profession that he had. A reason why, in his line of work, he was considered one of the best. Crowley could do things no other person could do. He could swim several hundred meters without needing to come up for air. He could pick out targets in the dead of night like they were standing right in front of him.

He could sneak his way through an entire Fire Nation ship without running into anyone. All he had to do was extend his senses and wait for the soldiers to pass by as he remained motionless, hidden around corners or above their heads, tucked deep within the piping. It was slow going, and with each second that ticked by, Crowley’s thoughts returned to Aziraphale, wondering if the man would keep his word and wait the full two hours before showing up to rescue his friends.

Every time those thoughts crept up on him, Crowley pushed them away. It would do him no good to dwell on them now. He had to focus if he had any hope of succeeding on this mission. Each step that he took made it harder and harder for him to turn back. Not only because he was slowly inching his way further inside an enemy vessel, but because the closer he got to the prison cell, the harder it would be to explain his presence were he to be caught.

Crowley paused for a moment in the deserted hallway, just around the corner from where he thought the prisoners might be. Not every ship was the same, of course, but Crowley had been on enough of them to know the general layout didn’t change much. It was amazing how many captains were willing to pay him to hunt down deserters. He’d certainly taken enough jobs and visited enough ships in the fleet to know where he needed to go.

As he reached out to see if anyone was approaching, Crowley’s mind circled back to his previous thought. Did he really see the Fire Nation as the enemy now? Yes, he had been lied to, and yes, his country had done some horrible things, but did that mean he was ready to abandon it? Abandon his home? The Fire Nation was all he’d ever known. Was he really ready to give up everything for some man he hardly knew?

Shaking his head, the firebender brought himself back to the current moment. There was no time to dwell on that now. He would have plenty of time to figure out his life once he got Kuzon and the others back to safety. 

Just as he’d suspected, the ship’s prison was located in one of the most central parts of the ship. It made sense, of course. If anyone managed to escape, they would find themselves hard pressed to make it to the deck without being apprehended. They couldn’t slowly break down the metal walls of their cage, because there was nowhere for them to go. The ship was crawling with Fire Nation soldiers, and the  _ only _ reason Crowley hadn’t had to deal with them yet was because he could sense them coming and was able to hide from view.

That all changed, of course, the moment he stepped inside the room. From what he could tell, there were six individuals located on the other side of the wall. Two of them were much closer than the other four. The firebender assumed these must be the guards. The other four were huddled in a corner - one female and three that were smaller. Children, if he had to guess.

If Crowley waltzed in now, there was a very good chance one of the two guards would sound the alarm. He didn’t have any of his weapons with him, so taking them out would be difficult. He needed a distraction. Something to lure one of them out so that he could knock out the other one without raising any suspicions. 

Amber eyes drifted over to the opposite wall, landing on a steam vent, and the firebender smiled.  _ Perfect _ . It was in a direct line of the small window upon the door. All he had to do was release a little pressure and wait for one of them to come investigate.

For the first time, Crowley almost wished Aziraphale had come with him. There was no telling how long it would take one of the guards to notice steam filling the hallway. If it went on for too long, the steam would drift too far and someone else would see it. Having an airbender on deck would have allowed him to keep the distraction in place, preventing any unwanted attention.

No matter. Crowley was confident this would work. So confident, in fact, that he didn’t even bother hiding himself away in the pipes up above as he waited. The firebender simply stood by the vent, watching as the hot steam filled the corridor, blocking almost everything from sight.

Less than a minute passed before he heard the door open and felt the soldier’s presence in the hall. It was muted, thanks to the extra heat he’d just released into the area, but it was enough for Crowley to maneuver himself out of the way and fell them with a single blow as they approached the valve in an attempt to turn it off.

Quickly, Crowley shut the steam off and shifted the body closer to the prison door. He didn’t have time to adequately stow it, as the other guard would certainly appear when their partner didn’t come back right away. This would have to do for now.

Trembling slightly, the man pressed his back up against the wall by the door and listened. The guard was still in place. Apparently, he or she couldn’t be bothered to check on the disturbance and had full faith their shift mate could handle a simple steam leak. It wouldn’t be long before that partner’s presence would be noticed, however. Crowley had to act now, before he was compromised. He could do this. He could rescue these kids and get them off this boat and then he and Aziraphale could get the hell out of here. Before more soldiers showed up to drag them all away.

Taking a deep breath, Crowley reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

It was over in an instant. Crowley had crossed the room before the other guard even looked up. With a quick strike to the back of the head, he crumpled to the ground and the man was free to dart back out into the hallway and grab the other body, dragging her unconscious form inside before anything nefarious was spotted.

Once he was sure the most dangerous part had passed, Crowley paused to allow himself to breath. The room was small, barely big enough to hold a single desk, lamp, and a small holding cell. Behind the iron bars stood four figures, just as he knew there would be. An older woman, with long black hair tied back away from her face. She was dressed in traditional Water Tribe attire and was standing protectively in front of three smaller children. Two boys. One girl. All staring up at him with wide eyes and their mouths wide open.

“Are they dead?” the girl with the curly hair asked, her brown eyes gleaming in the torchlight. 

Crowley turned his eyes on her and she flinched, but did not look away. “No, of course not.” What did they take him for, some kind of crazy murderer? He was already breaking them out of a Fire Nation prison. Adding homicide to the list would only make things worse for them all. “I simply knocked them out.”

“Wicked,” she grinned, shooting him an approving look. Crowley rolled his eyes, stooping down to root around in the nearest guard’s pockets until he found the set of keys he was looking for.

“Shut your yap and let’s get going,” Crowley murmured, his palms starting to sweat as he undid the lock and realized for the first time that Kuzon was nowhere to be found. 

“Where is your fearless leader?” he asked the Water Tribe woman. Anathema, he thought her name was. She was Aziraphale’s friend, as much as Kuzon’s. “Doesn’t he know he’s missing the party?”

Her deep brown eyes locked with his and Crowley felt his stomach fall to the floor. Oh no. This couldn’t be good.

“They took Kuzon to a holding cell in the other ship,” she explained, gravely. The firebender bit back a hiss of frustration, his mind reeling, trying to figure out what to do. It had already been extremely risky to sneak onto one ship and bust out a bunch of rebels. There was no way he could get through to this spot on the other ship before someone figured out these prisoners had been freed.

Crowley clenched his fist, the pointy bits of the key poking into his palm. “Kuzon’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.” He looked down at the three children now standing before him, freed from the cage that had previously held them. Eventually his eyes fell on the middle of the three, both in position and in height. He looked to be no older than eleven - they all did - with wild curls and soft brown eyes that reflected with hints of red and orange in the light.

“We have to go rescue him,” the boy stated, as if in Kuzon’s absence, he was the next in line to lead. “The soldiers didn’t take Kuzon by himself.”

A frown made its way across Crowley’s face. That man with the glasses - Newton - he hadn’t mentioned anyone else that Crowley could remember. Who else could their little group be missing? And why was he, or she, so important they would be willing to risk their lives  _ again _ just to save them? 

“Look,” he breathed, squatting down to look all three children in the eye. He had to make them understand. They were at war, and sometimes in war, people had to make sacrifices. Kuzon knew what was at stake, he knew what he’d been risking. And whatever friends he’d roped into his band of rebels knew that too. “We will all be captured if we go after the rest of your group now. We are pushing our luck staying here as it is.”

“You don’t understand,” the third child spoke, tears hovering in his eyes. “They separated us for a reason, you know. The soldiers - they were planning on taking us back to the Fire Nation. Put us in a prison camp. But Kuzon and Warlock - they’re going to kill them.”

Crowley winced. While harsh, it sounded like something right up Hastur and Ligur’s alley. Send the minor prisoners back to the Fire Nation while they had some fun with the leader of the group. If he had to guess, Crowley assumed the duo of captains were hoping to get some useful information out of the deserter before they offed him. Something they could take back to their superiors and trade for some sort of reward or promotion.

“Who is this Warlock?” the firebender asked, dreading what the answer might be. “What is it that he’s done that would make the Fire Nation want to kill him?”

“He hasn’t done  _ anything _ ,” the middle boy shot back in defense. Crowley lifted his hand in surrender. He hadn’t meant to insinuate that their friend, whoever he was, had done anything wrong. It may be new information to him, but that didn’t mean that the Fire Nation’s cruelty was incomprehensible. Crowley understood now what was at stake.

Anathema’s hand on the boy’s shoulder silenced him for a moment. Crowley slowly stood up, meeting her gaze, waiting for an explanation he knew was coming. One that he hoped would give him something to protest. Something to hold onto so he could get these kids to safety.

“Warlock is our newest member,” she explained softly, the hard lines on her face displaying every ounce of worry and fear the woman was currently feeling. “He’s their friend, a kid who is innocent in all of this.”

The words he wanted to say stuck in his throat. Images of lightning flashes and bloodstained shirts filled his mind as, at the edge of his hearing, he heard the unmistakable sound of Aziraphale’s screams. Each time that memory resurfaced, it became more and more painful to face, but Crowley forced himself to endure it. He owed his new companion at least that much.

Anathema seemed to understand his unspoken question. They both knew  _ exactly  _ why Fire Nation soldiers might want to kill a child, and it was one of the most terrible thoughts Crowley could think of these days. Anathema breathed in deeply, fighting back her own tears as she gathered the children a bit closer to her, eyes never leaving Crowley’s face.

“He’s their friend and he’s an airbender.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently I have forgotten how to write a 3000 word chapter. I used to know how, at some point, but these days they always end up longer. Hopefully that's alright with all of you, because I don't know what to do about it *shrugs*
> 
> I thought about cutting this one short, but come on! How could I leave you all with anything but that ending? It was entirely too much fun.
> 
> Hoping to have the next chapter out by this weekend, so stay tuned! Thank you all again for all your comments :) they literally fuel me and make me excited to get onto the next bit of the story <3


	19. Home Free

“No.”

The word reverberated around the room, growing more intense as the seconds went by before eventually fading away into nothing. Every eye in the room was on him, some wide and unbelieving, others filled to the brim with tears. Two of the three children opened their mouths to argue, but one swift motion of Crowley’s hand stopped them before a single sound could be uttered.

Only Anathema remained calm, an inexplicable, yet knowing look in her eyes. Crowley took a deep breath, then turned his attention on the children, focusing in on the one in the middle that appeared to be their leader.

“It is dangerous enough that you kids are still here,” the firebender tried to explain, waiting for one of them to protest. When they did not, his eyes flicked up to Anathema’s face. As the only other adult here, he had to trust her to get them to safety. He’d snuck his way down here, which was half the battle. Sneaking himself plus a waterbender and three children out of the ship was a whole other matter entirely. 

“You need to get back to shore,” he continued, moving toward the door, being careful not to step on the unconscious body still on the ground. The steam in the hallway was still lingering, and Crowley couldn’t decide if that was a good sign or a bad one. On the one hand, it meant not that much time had passed yet, which worked to their benefit. On the other hand, it was a clear sign that something was wrong. If any other soldiers walked down that hallway, they would be made for sure. 

He turned back around, fixing the three children with a look so stern, he was sure they wouldn't argue this time. “ _ I  _ will go and see to it that both Kuzon and Warlock make it out of there.  _ Your _ job is to keep yourselves safe. Understood?”

The wide smiles that greeted him in that moment were almost enough to banish all the fears that were welling up inside of him. Taking a deep breath, the firebender turned his attention back to the bit of hallway he could see through the small glass window before him. He wouldn’t be rescuing anyone if they lingered here much longer.

With a single nod of Crowley’s head, they were off. Silently, he lead them down the hallway, reaching out to sense around corners for any guards that might appear in their path. The children followed closely behind him, with Anathema bringing up the rear. As he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were all with him, he realized the steam that had surrounded them moments ago had suddenly vanished. A strange reflection caught his eye - one hovering in midair, right in front of the waterbender’s chest.

“I won’t be much use in a fight until we get closer to the bay,” Anathema murmured, passing some of the water over to the tallest of the three children. It would seem they had two waterbenders in their little rag-tag, jailbreak group. Were the other two earthbenders? They wouldn’t be much help here, encased in a metal ship. Not that it was Crowley’s plan to run into any scuffles on their way out, but there was no telling what might happen in a situation like this.

At the edge of his senses, someone came into view. Crowley could feel the heat of their body like a faint glow in an otherwise bleak landscape. He paused, holding up a hand and pressing himself up against the wall, poised to strike if necessary. Thankfully, the others followed his lead, their breaths quieting into little more than a whisper, as all eyes lay fixed ahead, waiting to see what would happen next.

Moments later, two Fire Nation soldiers passed by in the hall perpendicular to the one they were walking down. Crowley felt the children stiffen behind him, prepared for a fight, but the pair hardly glanced their way. They appeared to be walking with purpose, likely making a beeline to the dining hall for a late night snack. As soon as they appeared, the two were gone, and once their footsteps faded away to nothing and Crowley could no longer feel their presence, he took a step forward. A dozen more steps and he was rounding the corner, only to stop once more when he felt a gentle pressure on his arm.

“We should go the other way,” Anathema murmured, almost too soft for Crowley to hear. His eyes widened slightly, lips pulling into a tight frown. What was she talking about? The stairs leading to the ship’s top deck were towards the bow of the ship, not the stern.

“The stairs are - “

She shook her head, cutting him off mid sentence. “We don’t need the stairs. We just need access to water.”

Easier said than done. This wasn’t some kind of luxury cruise ship with windows mounted every dozen feet on the exterior wall. As far as he knew, the only access to the outside was the deck above them and the hatch in the back that held - 

“The river boats.”

Of course. It hadn’t been an option on his way in, but now that Crowley had waterbenders on his side, it just might work. They’d seen on the beach that all the soldiers had been called inside. What were the chances they’d run into someone on their way down there? Had all the soldiers retreated to the dining hall to eat, or had some of them been left behind to watch whatever room they kept those small boats in?

“Lead the way.”

They moved quickly - quicker than Crowley would have liked, but he was running out of time. How long had it been since he’d left Aziraphale? The airbender had declared that after two hours, he would arrive to help with the rescue. How much of that time did he have left? Crowley  _ had _ to get these kids out of here before that happened. He couldn’t risk Aziraphale turning up now.

When they arrived at the back of the ship to find the room entirely empty of guards, Crowley allowed himself to breathe again. The group spread out, quickly checking behind the small boats and other supplies for anything that might immediately threaten them, but they were in the clear. Amber eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of way out. Some small sort of window or door that lead to the outside that didn’t involve lowering the entire back portion of the ship down into the bay. They didn’t need to roll one of those smaller boats onto the ramp and slide it down into the water in order to escape. In fact, that would almost certainly put them in more trouble than they were already in.

What they needed was some kind of covert way to get out of this mess. Something that wouldn’t draw attention - at least, not until they were long gone.

Looking up, Crowley noticed Anathema was not milling about like the other children, but had made her way over to the wall nearest the hatch. Surely she wasn’t thinking about opening it, was she? The amount of sound that would make  _ alone _ was enough to bring at least a dozen soldiers down upon them, not to mention there was an entire other ship parked right beside them that would certainly see a door like that open.

He watched with a clenched jaw and his heart racing as she placed a single fist upon the wall, knocking quietly, listening for something. With a quiet murmur of a name he was too far away to hear, she beckoned the curly haired boy over. Crowley took a few steps forward, making sure the other children were within his line of sight, but directing most of his attention to the exchange currently going on in front of him.

“Do you think you can help me cut through this wall, Adam?” she asked, as he reached out a hand to knock on it, just as she had. The boy frowned for a moment, then nodded, taking a step back as he fixed his attention on the dark grey surface before him.

To his utter surprise and amazement, a stream of red hot fire erupted from the boy’s hands. A firebender? With the resistance? Crowley knew of a few soldiers that had deserted the army over the past ten years, but they were few and far between. Kuzon was the most famous of them all, and from what he now knew to be true, it made sense for the man to turn his back on his homeland, but a child? What was this boy doing so far from Fire Nation lands? How had he come to join up with Kuzon to help fight in the war? For that matter, how had  _ any _ of those kids gotten here?

“That’s enough,” Anathema said after a moment, signaling Adam to stop. The fire vanished into nothing, leaving a smoldering, glowing red section of the wall, just big enough for them to squeeze through one at a time, assuming they could break through the rest of the way.

Without skipping a beat, Anathema took the water she had been holding onto and laid it overtop of the burning metal. A sharp hissing sound filled the air as the water erupted into steam, cooling the surface rapidly down. Crowley watched, thoroughly impressed, as the taller boy stepped up and condensed the steam back down into a floating puddle of water in front of him.

The cycle continued like that - over and over again, like a well-oiled machine. Crowley stood back, watching in awe as they worked together. It was obvious this wasn’t their first time dealing with something like this, and not for the first time the firebender wondered just how long these people had been operating as a team.

“Alright, Pepper?” he turned to see the girl standing not too far away, a wide grin on her face. “Would you like to do the honors?”

The girl stepped forward, and Crowley saw to his amazement, a small pile of coal floating behind her. Where had she found that? He supposed it made sense that the small boats would be powered by coal, but to think to look for something like that here was a stroke of genius.

He was beginning to wonder if this team of individuals needed his help at all, or if they had just been biding their time, waiting for an opportunity to escape on their own.

“As soon as she punches through,” Anathema began, looking around to ensure all eyes were on her. “All three of you are going to climb through this hole and quietly drop down into the water. Do not say anything. Do not make a splash, understood? We have no idea how many of them are patrolling up on deck or where, exactly, they are.”

All three kids nodded their heads simultaneously, their attention unwavering. “Brian,” she began, turning to the tallest one of them - the one still holding the water out in front of him. “I need you to keep everyone underwater until you reach the shore. Go slowly. Take as much time as you need, alright. Go the long way if you have to, just make sure you are out of sight before you surface again.”

“Head that way,” Crowley interrupted, lifting a hand to point to his right, back to the east where that large rocky outcrop was positioned. “You can surface behind a collection of large boulders. They won’t see you when you surface.”

A soft smile appeared on Anathema’s face as she met his gaze with admiration and gratitude in her eyes. A look that vanished as soon as Pepper turned away from the wall and asked her next question.

“You aren’t coming with us?”

Anathema shook her head gently and Crowley felt the tension in the air noticeably increase. What did she mean she wasn’t going with them? If she wasn’t returning to shore right away, what exactly was her plan?

“Our valiant rescuer is going to need an extra set of hands,” she announced with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “If he hopes to get Kuzon out of the pickle he’s found himself in this time.”

This brought a wide grin to all three of their faces - no doubt reminiscing over all the other times their leader had found himself in a tight spot and managed to come out on top. A sudden warmth entered Crowley’s chest as he observed this strange, yet wonderful little family they had created for themselves. He’d never had anything like that before. Sure, Crowley had parents who had looked after him. Parents that had pushed him to be the best he could be. He was grateful for that.

Still, there were moments like these that came up every once in a while. Moments that made him wonder if, maybe, there was something else out there. If there was something  _ more _ that he might find, if he only took the time to look.

“I can handle this on my own,” Crowley assured them all, not wanting to be the reason that these kids lost their mother-figure if it all went pear shaped. “Trust me. I’ve been trained for this - and not only that,” he continued when it looked like Anathema was about to protest, “I currently have orders from the Fire Lord, himself. Orders I don’t plan on following through on, but  _ they  _ don’t know that. They still think I’m on their side.”

He took in a deep breath, feeling the familiar surge of energy throughout his body. “I’ll be fine. Kuzon and Warlock will both be back with you by morning’s light. You have my word.”

Anathema turned to him, a soft smile on her face, one that made the firebender begin to wonder - how much did she know? It was obvious Aziraphale knew this group of people, and he was almost certain she had been the one to escort him to the North Pole. Had Aziraphale mentioned him to her, or any of the others? Had he told them all what Crowley had done? Had he mentioned Katone or Dagon or Bealz? Or had he said nothing at all?

“We  _ all _ will have a better shot at coming out of this in one piece if we work together,” she confirmed and Crowley felt a sudden flood of tears surface around his eyes. She didn’t hate him. None of the children did. They trusted him, completely, to help them get out of this mess, for no other reason than he had risked his safety to save them. 

He quickly blinked the moisture away, giving a final nod of affirmation before turning to watch the rest of their plan unfold. A strange warmth began to blossom in his chest and Crowley desperately tried not to focus on it too much, afraid he might grow distracted and botch what was likely to be his most difficult mission to date.

A soft hand on his arm brought the firebender back to the present. He looked down to find Anathema standing by his side, a look of fierce determination in her eyes. This was no Water Tribe healer he was about to pair up with. Anathema was a warrior. He could see it in the way she carried herself. In the glint of light in her deep brown eyes and the crease of her brow. She was going to do whatever was necessary to bring her friends home, and that fact alone brought Crowley a sense of comfort he hadn’t expected to feel this night.

They weren’t friends, not yet anyway. But he had an ally in Anathema, and the children she had made her own. For the first time in his life, Crowley felt like he was a part of something. This was different than all those other times he had teamed up with Bealz or Dagon - individuals who only ever did something when there was something to be gained. People who he knew would sooner leave him in the dust than put their well-being on the line to help him when he was down. This was  _ different _ in all the ways that mattered.

For the first time in his life, Crowley realized that maybe,  _ maybe,  _ he didn’t have to do this alone.

“What do you say we pull off one last, miraculous rescue tonight?”

* * *

“This plan is completely and utterly insane,” Cowley muttered, adjusting the loose tunic around his waist. He debated tucking it into his now dried out trousers, but ultimately decided against it. The more freedom of motion he had, the better. He wanted to be ready, should a fight break out.“I hope you know that.”

“Relax,” Anathema replied as she pulled her helmet snugly into place. She kept the skull-like face plate removed for a moment, fixing her deep brown gaze on Crowley’s face. His hand fell instinctively to his side, scratching at the uncomfortable fabric as he tried his very best not to panic. “It will work just fine. You said so yourself that you’re currently working a job for the Fire Lord, right?”

“I was,” the firebender corrected, already regretting his decision to confide that bit of information. “Changed my mind, I suppose.”

What would she think of him, if she knew what his real mission had been? Would she hate him, for trying to bring the Avatar into Fire Nation custody? The Avatar was the last bit of hope for a lot of people right now. Hope to end the war, to bring about balance and peace. Hope to try and rebuild all that had already been lost these past ten years. It was no secret that Fire Lord Sozin wanted the airbender, but to openly admit Crowley had been tasked with finding him? He simply couldn’t take that risk.

“Either way,” the woman shrugged, turning the white object over in her hands. “They don’t know you’ve switched sides, which means we should have no trouble simply waltzing into the captain’s quarters. Right?”

As she uttered the last word, Anathema slipped on the rest of her disguise. As the face plate snapped into place, her voice took on a muffled tone to it, partially blocked by the material that would not only prevent her from being recognized, but also give her the appearance of belonging.

Their plan was simple. Jump a guard patrolling alone on deck. Dress Anathema up like a soldier and have her escort Crowley to the Captain’s quarters where either Hastur or Ligur would be waiting. Crowley would persuade the captain to let him speak with Kuzon on behalf of the Fire Lord and once the prisoners were in sight, they would make a break for it.

It wasn’t the most elegant, as far as plans went, but they were running out of time. If he wanted to keep Aziraphale out of the hands of the Fire Nation, this would have to work. 

The first part had gone off without a hitch. As soon as the three children had slipped through the hole they’d created in the back of one of the ships, Anathema had guided a wave up to meet them, coaxing it easily from one ship to the other so quickly, Crowley barely had time to feel the cold water against his bare skin before he found himself standing on the starboard side of the ship, completely dry, overtop a Fire Nation soldier Anathema had knocked unconscious with a single blow.

“Put on his boots,” Anathema pointed out, head remaining still as he caught the briefest glimpse of her eyes flicking downward to his still-bare feet. “They’re too big for me.”

“What about your feet?” he asked, trying not to focus too much on his growing nerves. This was going to work. It  _ was _ . He had to believe that. “Think they’ll notice?”

The woman shrugged, a barely perceptible motion beneath the wide, pointed shoulder pads of her uniform. “Doubt it. Not like these boots scream “Water Tribe” you know. They’re the same color and close enough in shape. I think we’ll be fine.”

“If anything,” the woman continued, a hint of teasing entering her still-muffled voice, “I’d say they would notice all the extra seawater I’ve got filling out the rest of this uniform, before they notice a pair of slightly misshapen boots.”

She was significantly more optimistic than he was, and somehow that seemed to calm Crowley. Once he was sure their disguises were secure and the now partially de-uniformed officer was stowed out of sight, the firebender led the way inside, careful not to make eye contact with too many of the other soldiers walking about. He kept Anathema right by his side, guiding her with simple brushes of his hand. They needed to make it look like she was escorting him to anyone that might cross their path. If their cover was blown now, there would be no way to extract Kuzon and Warlock.

“Captain’s quarters are up this flight of stairs, on your right,” Crowley mumbled under his breath after they passed by the third guard without any interaction. “Be ready.”

That was all he could say without increasing their risk of getting caught. From what he remembered, many of the captains liked to keep several guards stationed outside their doors at all hours of the day - even when they weren’t inside. There was a war going on, after all, and though the Fire Nation liked to see themselves as the superior people, they weren’t invulnerable, and they weren’t stupid. Only an arrogant fool would leave himself unguarded, and as cruel and vile as the pair were, Hastur and Ligur were more clever than some liked to believe.

Just as he suspected, two guards were stationed outside the room as they entered the hall. The closest one turned slowly as they approached, eyes looking Crowley up and down once before coming to rest on his face.

“Wait a minute,” the man began, a hint of nervous energy filtering into his voice. “I know you.”

“Do you?” Crowley asked, forcing his heartbeat to slow as much as possible. Although he hadn’t thought of it before, he should have expected a reaction like this. Sometimes, the firebender forgot just how out of place he looked sometimes. Sometimes, he forgot that he was somewhat of a living legend. “Because, as far as I’m aware, we’ve never met before.”

The female guard beside him snorted and he turned to glare in her direction. Crowley smirked, hoping it came across as cool and aloof as he was trying to make it seem. He had to remember who he was supposed to be. He was a trained professional - a bounty hunter on a mission from the Fire Lord himself. Nothing was going to stand in his way. Especially not low rank Fire Nation soldiers.

“Are you going to let me in?” Crowley asked after a moment of silence passed between them. The guard looked from Crowley, over to his companion, and back again, the tenseness in his frame obvious, despite the mask that blocked most of his face from view.

“Do you...need to go in?” the man asked tentatively, not quite meeting Crowley’s gaze. The firebender huffed, trying to make it look like he was irritated at the inconvenience and not that he was slowly beginning to lose his nerve. How much more time did they have before Aziraphale started making his way onto the ships? What if he went on to the wrong one and was attacked before Crowley had a chance to get to him? Surely the kids had made it to shore by now. He should have told them to pass a message along to Aziraphale. How  _ stupid _ was he?

“I wouldn’t have needed an escort here if I didn’t,” he pointed out and that was enough for the soldier. The man quickly jumped back as if Crowley were about to bite him and opened the door, ushering both Crowley and Anathema through before shutting the door behind them. 

The cabin was just as large and luxurious as he expected it to be. Plush seating, decorated in all manners of tapestries and drapes paying homage to their homeland. At the opposite end of the room was a wide cherry desk in front of a window where two men sat. One of them had his back to them as they entered, but quickly spun around in his chair and fixed his bright orange eyes on the pair. The other, a slightly taller man with hollow cheekbones and the darkest eyes Crowley had ever seen, sat on the opposite side of the wooden structure, a soft grin spreading out from one cheek to the other.

“Well, well,” he began, not displaying nearly as much anxiety as the man responsible for keeping him safe had. “Who do we have here? The famous Crowley, at my doorstep. I’m honored.”

“Captain Hastur,” Crowley greeted with a short bow, taking a step forward while Anathema waited patiently at the door, standing at attention like any good guard would. “Captain Ligur,” he added as an amendment as he turned his attention to the other man. “So sorry for the intrusion, but I overheard a bit of a scuffle on the beach earlier. Some of your soldiers and a few non-benders. They lead me to believe you have someone in your custody that I would very much like to talk to.”

Hastur smirked, leaning forward on his desk slightly as he fixed his gaze on Crowley’s. “And who might that be?”

“Surely you know,” the firebender began, stopping where he was, gesturing lazily with one hand as he spoke. Were the pair buying this charade of nonchalance? Was he overdoing it? Did they already suspect him of treason, or did they still believe he was some legendary character - the kind parents told their children about as they got ready to go to sleep. “Firebender, deserted the army. Set up some little resistance group in the forest here. A bunch of kids, from what I’ve heard. Ring any bells?”

Hasur looked at him for a long moment and for a brief second, Crowley thought he was going to deny the whole thing. Then, the man shifted so his hands were folded out in front of him, the wickedest of smiles upon his face.

“Doesn’t sound familiar. No.”

Crowley gritted his teeth. Hastur was toying with him. Wasting his time so he could have a bit of fun. Normally, the firebender might entertain such a conversation, but he didn’t have the  _ time _ . For all they knew, Warlock could already be dead. Aziraphale could be on his way and Crowley could  _ not _ let that happen.

“You don’t happen to know his name, do you?” the larger man asked, nearly black eyes glinting in the red lamplight. “Might help...jog my memory.”

He was at a crossroads. If he revealed too much information, Hastur would send Crowley on his way and deal with Kuzon himself. If he kept too much close to his chest, they would never get Kuzon out. He had to strike a balance, and quickly. Before the captain grew too bored.

“Goes by the name Kuzon, I believe,” Crowley answered and saw Hastur’s features shift into a sort of twisted delight. “Fire Lord Sozin has given me an important task, and after months of running down leads, here I am.”

“And you think,” Hastur began, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. This was a good sign, Crowley decided. If Hastur was interested in what Crowley was up to, he could use that to his advantage, “that this traitor to our country might have the answers you seek. What makes him so special?”

Crowley’s mouth went dry. He had a feeling he knew exactly what needed to be said to get Hastur and Ligur to let him speak to Kuzon. But if he shared what he knew and they weren’t able to get Kuzon out tonight, he would make the man’s life infinitely more painful. Of that, he had no doubt.

“I’ve been tracking down leads on the identity and location of the Avatar,” Crowley began, watching as both men’s eyes widened. “And I’m getting close. I bet you didn’t know that Kuzon was childhood friends with the Avatar, did you?” He paused for a moment to let that statement sink in. “He knows the man’s name, and I’m hoping with a bit of persuasion from me, I can get that bit of information out of him.”

Ligur laughed. “The Avatar, seriously? Everyone knows he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead,” Hastur interrupted before Crowley had a chance to make his case. “If he was, we’d have heard about it, wouldn’t we? That’s not the sort of event you can just hide.”

The other captain simply huffed quietly, crossing his arms firmly across his chest like a petulant child who had just been told off for misbehaving. Crowley turned his attention back to Hastur, giving it one last attempt to drive home his point.

“Naturally, I’ve been offered a hefty reward should I find him,” the firebender continued. “You would both be entitled to a share of it.”

A pause. Even if Hastur was trying to seem like he was weighing his options, at the mention of a reward, Crowley knew he had the man’s attention. “How much are we talking?”

He shrugged. “Enough that you could retire from your seafaring ways, should you want to.” They both knew he didn’t, but that didn’t mean Hastur or Ligur would turn down money being handed to them.

“Fine,” the man growled, and Crowley felt his whole body flood with relief. “You get five minutes with him. You - ” he cut off abruptly, pointing at Anathema, still standing quietly by the door. “Grab one of the others outside and go down and retrieve him. I want to be here to witness this. Don’t underestimate him and don’t let him escape or it will be your heads, understood?”

She nodded vigorously, then disappeared out the door, leaving Crowley alone in the room with both captains. If he had his dao blades with him, the firebender might have considered taking them out right then and there, but if Anathema returned with Kuzon and Warlock wasn’t with them, the alarm would be raised too soon. They wouldn’t have enough time to go down to the brig and retrieve him.

Crowley had hoped he would have been escorted down to meet with Kuzon where he was currently being held. He could have easily taken out the guards and they could have tried to bust out of this ship like they had the previous one. At least this way, he had a chance to fill the man in on their plan and hope he had a way to also get Warlock out in one piece.

“You ever grow tired of the ‘hunting people down’ business?”

He turned his attention back on the two men in front of him, raising an eyebrow to indicate he had no clue what they were talking about. 

“We could use a man like you in our crew,” Ligur added, lifting a glass of some sort of dark, amber liquid that Crowley hadn’t realized was there before. “Especially where we’re going next.”

“Where’s that?” the man asked, trying to sound somewhat interested. He doubted he would be able to get much useful information out of these two - not anything Kuzon or the others could use. But if these two ships had gotten orders to attack another part of the Earth Kingdom, maybe someone could get a message to whatever poor village they had set their sights on. “Another fishing village a dozen or two miles from here? Sounds riveting.”

Ligur grinned. It was a feral thing - all malice and no joy. Crowley felt his body tensing up, energy flowing through him as he kept his breaths slow and steady.

“You could be part of something bigger, you know,” the man continued, turning to look back at Hastur for a moment. “No more tracking deserters through the Earth Kingdom, or shaking down crooks for the money that they stole. You could be a  _ war hero _ , Crowley. You could help lead us to victory.”

Amber eyes widened. Surely they weren’t talking about what he thought they were talking about. Were they?

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, gentlemen,” he announced, ready to decline their offer with whatever lies necessary. “But I highly doubt even a man like me could bring victory over the Earth Kingdom in a single day. That is much too mighty a job.”

“Not the Earth Kingdom,” Hastur began, a strange intensity to his voice. Once again, he was leaning forward in his satin covered throne, hands folded neatly on his ornate desk, eyes boring into Crowley’s face. “Think a little smaller. Something more manageable. A bit further south.  _ Colder _ , if you catch my drift.”

Oh gods. They were going to attack the Southern Water Tribe. Pick off the weakest link while the other nations still hesitated to go all-in to this war. Crowley’s hands began to tremble and he forced himself to shove his panic aside. Hastur’s continued grin and unwavering eye contact could mean only one thing. The man expected Crowley to say  _ yes. _

His stomach roiled at the thought. How could this be happening again? First the Air Temples and now this? How could Sozin still not be satisfied? How could the people of his homeland still believe they were doing good?

More importantly - how did he stop it?

“When do I start?” He forced the words out. Forced a smile on his face and his arm to extend, even though every second he grew closer to losing the contents of his stomach all over the floor.

“We ship out tonight,” Ligur responded without hesitation, clearly thrilled to have Crowley agree so readily. “Make landfall in a week. The day before the new moon.”

The perfect time for an attack against waterbenders. Hit them hard during the day when the firebenders had the advantage and if they were met with resistance and the fight kept going, a night with no moon was sure to level the playing field.

They wouldn’t stand a chance. Not if naval ships from this far north were being called down to ready for the attack. Their entire village would be wiped out in a matter of _ days _ if this attack went on as planned. 

“Count me in.”

Before either one could say another word, the door behind them opened. Crowley turned to face the group as they entered. To his relief, he saw that not only had the guards grabbed Kuzon to bring him in for questioning, but they also had a young boy in their custody. 

Warlock.

He was a young kid, no older than the others had been. Small framed, like he hadn’t had much to eat in his short life, with dark ragged hair that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed in loose fitting clothing. Something that was probably borrowed from one of the other boys, if Crowley had to guess. Anathema did say he was their newest recruit. Where had he been before this? A young airbender, hiding out in the Earth Kingdom all this time.

“I thought I told you to just bring the traitor,” Hastur growled. The guard who was not Anathema stepped forward, his hands up.

“I tried sir, but he refused to come without the kid. Figured it was easier than getting into a firefight with him. Not like they can escape. It’d be five against two, if they tried.”

Kuzon and Warlock were both chained with their hands behind their back. Likely to try and prevent them from bending. It may work to suppress the kid, but Kuzon was no amateur. He would be just as useful this way, were a fight to break out. And unbeknownst to Hastur and Ligur, the odds were stacked against them this time. Were someone to attack, they would be outnumbered. 

“Kuzon,” Crowley grinned in a way that was not at all welcoming. He extended his arms, clapping the man roughly on the shoulder. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

He had no way to know, by the look of utter disgust on Kuzon’s face, whether the man knew something was up and was a talented actor, or if he really wanted to blast Crowely’s brains out right then and there.

“Give us a moment, won’t you, lads?” he asked, steering the prisoner over to a door that probably led to Hastur’s sleeping quarters. “Won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Like I’m going to tell you  _ anything, _ ” Kuzon snarled, tugging backward enough to show he was putting up a fight, but not hard enough to remove himself from Crowley’s grasp. He spun around, brown eyes glaring down at the two captains as they passed. “If any of you harm a hair on his head, I swear, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

“Oh, come on,” the firebender muttered, wrenching the door open and pushing the stockier man inside. Kuzon lunged forward, mouth open to no doubt hurl a string of insults at him. However, the moment the solid metal door slammed shut behind them, the other man visibly relaxed. Relief flooded his eyes, his face morphing instantly from a snarl into a wide grin.

“I never thought I’d say this, but boy, am I glad to see you.”

A tentative smile crept onto Crowley’s face. “You had me going there for a moment,” he admitted, finally allowing himself to relax, if only for a moment. They could worry about the water tribe issue another day. For now, his only focus had to be on getting Kuzon and Warlock off this ship. “Thought you actually wanted to take my head off.”

“Are you kidding?” Kuzon shot back, his grin growing ever wider. “The second Anathema walked through that door, I knew we were home free. And it’s all thanks to you! Who would have guessed it?”

“Keep your voice down,” Crowley warned, eyes flicking toward the door. There was no window there, no way for their interaction to be seen, but that didn’t mean Hastur or Ligur couldn’t overhear them if they were too loud. “I didn’t come all this way for my cover to be blown by the likes of you.”

Even his scolding wasn’t enough to wipe the grin from Kuzon’s face. Tears welled in his eyes and Crowley was certain that if the man’s hands weren’t chained up behind his back, he would have already moved in for an embrace. Part of him was glad he didn’t have to deal with the emotional, embarrassing shit. The other part kind of wished Kuzon’s hands had been free. Just to see what he would do.

“So what’s the plan?”

Silence fell between the pair. For a moment, Crowley let his mind spin, wondering distantly why he couldn’t come up with an answer.

“This is it,” he finally said, eyes rising to meet Kuzon’s. “This is all I’ve got.”

Kuzon released a breath and took a step back, knees knocking up against the side of the bed. He remained standing, eyes glancing around the room. Whether he was wondering what in the world they were going to do or looking for something he could use, he didn’t know.

“I guess all that’s left to do is bust out of here.”

Crowley chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep himself together. They were so  _ close _ , and yet there was still so much that could go wrong. “You make it sound so easy.”

Kuzon shrugged. “We outnumber them, don’t we. Even if that other guard comes inside, it’s four on four.”

Red eyebrows raised. “The boy can fight?” Crowley hadn’t expected to hear that. He looked so...small.

“Well,” the tone in Kuzon’s voice shifted and Crowley looked up, alarmed.

“He’s not  _ bad _ ,” the other man was quick to defend the boy. “He’s actually quite good, for someone who just found out he was an airbender.”

Just found out? Crowley’s eyes widened. Kuzon had recruited a kid with no prior bending experience to his resistance group? And an airbender at that. What was he thinking? “He just -”

“Yes,” Kuzon hissed, urging Crowley to keep his voice down, “I mean, what did you expect? The kid was barely a year old when the invasion happened. It’s not like he had anyone to teach him what to do.”

Crowley released a long, slow breath. They could deal with this later too. All that mattered right now was getting the four of them out. As quickly as possible. “So, what? We walk out there, fireballs blazing?”

A soft chuckle. “That might just work.”

“Wait,” Crowley began, but Kuzon was already moving toward the door. “You can’t be serious. If we go out there and start a fight, someone could get hurt.”

Kuzon stopped and turned, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We’ll be fine. I know my team. Give them a little bit of trust, yeah?” 

Without another word, he stooped down, keeping his eyes locked with Crowley’s. The man watched with silent awe as the other firebender shifted his shoulders around in the most uncomfortable looking of manners. A quick hop and he was back on his feet, hands now clasped firmly in front of him, rather than behind. Not a perfect solution, but one that would make firebending much easier on him.

“Let’s go bust out of this joint, shall we?” he asked, before reaching out to pry the door open. With one final grin, Kuzon turned away and stepped out into the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Goodness. I know this chapter is only a little bit longer than the last one, but I was so excited to share it with you, that it felt like it was taking foreeeeever to write.
> 
> Next up, we'll be back with Aziraphale as the group takes a much needed break before their next big adventure (and I'll give you a hint, it's not the raid on the Southern Water Tribe - they've got a whole week to figure out how to deal with that). Any guesses where they'll go next?


	20. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Panic attack - right after Crowley mentions the attack on the Southern Water Tribe (at the very end of the chapter)

The waiting was absolute torture, so painful, Aziraphale could hardly stand it. Newton and Wensleydale took him back to a secondary camp hidden deep in the forest, with assurances that Kuzon and the others would know where to go. They’d planned for something like this. They were a resistance group, one that fought against the Fire Nation every day. It would be foolish of them not to have a backup plan in place for such an event as this.

Still, as they pushed through the last layer of brush and out into a small clearing surrounded by a wall of pine trees, Aziraphale did not feel any more settled. Worry gnawed at his stomach as he looked around for something to do. Anything where he could lend a hand and distract himself from what had to be happening on those ships.

“We store most of the stuff underground,” Wensleydale was explaining as he paced around the exterior of the clearing, reaching his hand down into various hidden compartments in the tree trunks and underneath rocks to reveal several sleeping bags, packages of food, tools to start a fire. They had really thought of it all. Aziraphale watched as Bitty sniffed each object in his hand as he extracted it, her head cocked ever so slightly in curious wonder. “Without Pepper here to uncover it, this will have to do for now.”

Aziraphale looked up, pushing his worried thoughts away for a moment as he took in the boy standing before him. Wensleydale was looking up at him, a smile upon his face despite the bent glasses still askew and the makings of a bruise just beginning to form on his cheeks. He was holding out his arm, a blanket dangling over his hand and wrist. It was faded, and no doubt a bit scratchy, but Aziraphale took it all the same, a gentle smile on his face.

“We’ve got some of your stuff here, I think,” the boy continued as he padded over to one side of the forest where Newton was setting up sticks to make a fire. The young shirshu padded after him, chasing his feet like they were some small forest critter she needed to capture. “Anathema said you left it up at the North Pole when you disappeared.”

A frown began to overtake the airbender’s face as guilt welled up inside him. What had he been thinking, just leaving like that? He owed Anathema and Kuzon so much. They had helped him when doing so could have gotten them killed, and he had left without so much as a goodbye. What kind of person did that?

“She also said,” Newton continued, a familiar, knowing look in his eyes, “that you were perfectly fine and would find your way back to us eventually.”

The way he said it, so sure and without even a hint that he might be joking. It made Aziraphale pause. Anathema couldn’t have...actually known he would come back, could she? Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t been here on purpose. They hadn’t even known Kuzon and the others had relocated along their route of travel. So how could she know he would find his way back?

“Relax,” the man soothed, beckoning Aziraphale over with a wave of his hand as he began searching around him for the flint he would need to get the blaze going. Part of Aziraphale worried there might be Fire Nation soldiers still about in these woods, that a fire might bring unwanted attention, but from what he’d heard back on the shore, it sounded like everyone had been called back to the ship.

He could only hope for that to be true. 

“It’s not like she had a vision or anything,” the man was explaining, still on the topic of Anathema. “She just has these feelings sometimes.”

“We tried to quiz her about them,” Wensleydale butted in, reaching up his free hand to adjust the glasses on his face, “to add some _scientific rigor,_ but her answers never make any sense.”

A laugh bubbled up inside of Aziraphale and he let it out, somewhat reluctantly. His heart still ached for his friends trapped aboard those ships and the man he’d been forced to send in to save them. Aziraphale was itching to race back to the shores, to catapult his way onto the deck and fight his way to them, but that would be suicide. Crowley had been right in cautioning him to stay safe on Earth Kingdom shores. He would have to trust the firebender to get them all out safely. Crowley had somehow managed to track him halfway across the world. Surely breaking into a ship prison would be easy work for him.

They waited for nearly an hour, sitting shoulder to shoulder in front of the crackling fire. Bitty, who had now experienced at least two weeks of campfires, had finally gotten over her initial fear of the red-hot flames. She hardly paid them any mind as she lay curled up on Newton’s lap, snoring softly as his wiry fingers threaded their way through her thick fur.

Aziraphale tried to distract himself, but with every crackle of the hot embers, he found himself jumping, turning around to try and catch a glimpse of whatever being had stumbled through the forest to their campsite. Above them, the leaves were thick and heavy and blocked out most of the sky. If he craned his neck in just the right way, the airbender could spot a small cluster of stars that he thought made up the constellation shaped like a flying bison, but he couldn’t be too sure.

A familiar ache settled into his chest as memories of a simpler time began to drift into his mind. Warm spring afternoons spent soaring above the mountains on the back of his sky bison. Evenings of meditation and training beside his peers. Hearty meals seated at a table with his mentors and friends. His community. His home.

Something rustled in the foliage behind them. At first, Aziraphale thought he might be imagining it again, but when both Wensleydale and Newton turned to look as well, the airbender felt his heart squeeze tightly in his chest. Only to be flooded with relief when three children stumbled into the dimly lit space. Their hair was a bit out of place, clothes slightly damp, but they were all very much alive.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the airbender breathed as he slowly got to his feet. Wensleydale had beaten him to it, already having closed half the distance between them by the time Aziraphale had righted himself and taken his first step. A smile filled with relief tugged at the corners of his mouth and the man allowed it to form, his eyes sliding upward to the empty space between the two nearest trees, waiting for the rest of the group to come crashing through.

Silence was the only thing that greeted him.

“Where are Crowley and the others?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes falling to the girl, Pepper, who was standing off to the side, arms crossed in front of her chest as the boys attempted to draw her into the group hug.

“Kuzon and Warlock were taken to the other ship,” she explained, ducking out of the way as Brian’s long arm attempted to snake its way around her shoulders. “That guy who came to rescue us took Anathema to go get them.”

“We escaped underwater!” Adam piped up, unable to keep his enthusiasm at bay. He was grinning over at Wensleydale, arm slung casually around Brian’s waist. “Brian was _amazing_. He kept us in this little bubble of air by pushing all the water away and we just walked across the bottom of the bay. They had no clue at all we were escaping right under their noses!”

“Probably because the visibility in the water is sub-optimal,” Wensleydale added, reaching up a hand to adjust his broken glasses yet again. “Especially at this time of night. With no strong light source, it’s no surprise they weren’t able to see you getting away.”

Aziraphale wanted to be relieved. He wanted to feel happy that the children had found their way back to safety again. Ultimately, that was most important. Anathema and Crowley were adults. They were old enough to make their own decisions, and if those decisions resulted in giving themselves up so that a group of innocent children could go free, well, he couldn’t really fault them for that.

“How far behind you are they?” Aziraphale asked, eyes still straining to see through the dense underbrush spread out before them. He knew it was foolish to think that Crowley and the others would appear anytime soon, not if they’d had to sneak aboard a second ship. But the thought of waiting this long a second time made the man sick to his stomach.

“Dunno,” Adam shrugged as he lifted his hazel eyes first to Aziraphale’s face, and then to the space behind him where Bitty must have untucked herself from Newton’s lap. The second the boy’s gaze fell on her, he let out an excited gasp, jaw dropping in surprise.

“What is that?” he exclaimed, already on the move. Bitty, not one to be shy when it came to meeting new people, let out an excited bark and scurried over to them, tripping over her paws no less than three times in the time it took to cross the clearing to where the children were still gathered.

“This is Bitty,” Aziraphale announced, watching with cautious eyes as the young shirshu stood up on her hind legs and began sniffing Adam’s face. “She’s a shirshu.” He knew there was nothing to be worried about - not really. From Crowley’s description, Adult shirshus were dangerous creatures when agitated. They were as large as polar bear dogs, with a barbed tongue and saliva that could cause paralysis for hours on end. At this age, Bitty wasn’t likely to cause any harm to their sense of touch greater than a slight tingle.

“What’s a shirshu?” Brian asked as he stooped down to scratch the young creature behind her ears. Pepper huffed, arms still crossed across her chest as she took a few steps forward, past the boys surrounding the energetic ball of fluff currently licking their faces. 

“Obviously you’re looking at one,” Pepper shot back. Aziraphale turned to watch her, surprised at the harsh tone of her voice. The young girl was pacing around the clearing, moving in what first appeared as an erratic pattern across the leaf-covered floor. There was no doubt she was as scared for her friends as the rest of them were. Aziraphale had only known Kuzon and Anathema for a few weeks. He’d barely spent three days in their presence and was worried sick about them.These children, each of whom had lost their homes – their _families_ – one way or another. All they had was each other. The thought of losing any one of the Freedom Fighters to the Fire Nation’s cruel hand was simply unbearable.

With a quick stomp of her foot, the earth beneath Pepper shifted to reveal a rather large collection of supplies buried underground. Crates of what he assumed were various food items, jugs of water, backpacks filled with blankets and clothing and an assortment of medical supplies. This was no rag tag group of rebels. Kuzon knew exactly what he was doing and had everything on hand that would keep his family safe.

“These are yours,” Pepper announced as she reached into the hole she had created and pulled out a faded green bag and long wooden pole whose shape was achingly familiar.

“My glider,” Aziraphale breathed as he absentmindedly reached out a hand to receive the gift. He’d left it behind at the North Pole, no longer in need of it. Unable to return to Anathema’s side and retrieve it, for fear he might wither from embarrassment.

The young girl turned away as soon as he had hold of the instrument, but not before Aziraphale caught the brief reflection of a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. Without hesitation, the man knelt to the ground, keeping his hands firmly by his sides, knowing that Pepper would come to him when she was ready.

“It’s going to be alright,” he assured her, shifting to sit on the ground as the other children stopped their chattering and came to stand before him. “I promise you, Crowley will get them out. He’s an incredibly resourceful man. You just have to wait a little while longer.”

“What if it’s too late?” Pepper asked, voice barely more than a whisper. He could see the fear reflected in her eyes - so similar to the fear currently pounding through his own heart. These children ad each lost so much already. They’d all been forced to say goodbye to their homes. _This -_ these people right here were the only family they knew, and as far as any of them were aware, they could very well lose some of that family tonight.

Aziraphale shook his head, holding out an arm as she stepped closer for a hug. Pepper buried her face in his neck as Aziraphale held her, the other three boys watching on solemnly, not daring to say a word. Each of them had found their way here one way or another. Brian had left his home deep within the swamps. Adam had been on the run after his father had been accused of treason. Wensleydale and Newton had been together since the younger boy had learned to walk. Not exactly brothers, but the closest two people could get.

And Pepper? Pepper had lost everything. Her parents, her family. Her entire village was gone as a result of this stupid, _pointless_ war. And as brave as she was, even warriors had moments where they needed support the most.

“Trust me, Pepper,” Aziraphale assured her. “If anyone can get them out, it will be Crowley. He’s our secret weapon.”

This statement caused all four sets of eyes on him to widen. Bitty, who up until that point was sniffling loudly around a bush a few feet away, came bounding over, flopping onto Brian’s feet before he had the chance to move.

“What kind of weapon?” Wensleydale asked, his glasses once again sliding off the bridge of his nose.

“Well,” Aziraphale began, lowering his arms to squeeze Pepper’s shoulders as she pulled away slowly. “He used to be very famous in the Fire Nation. In fact, he probably still is. An excellent fighter. Bright and determined to do whatever it takes to complete his mission. A few months ago, I would have said we were all in big trouble if he ever crossed our path.”

A soft smile appeared on Aziraphale’s face as he pictured what Crowley’s daring rescue must have been like. If he was able to sneak onto the second ship, it must have been a covert operation. How had he done it? Did he know the layout of the ships so well, he was able to move about undetected? Was it just simple luck.

“He’s on our side now,” the airbender continued. “But they don’t know that yet. Crowley is our secret. And they have no idea what’s coming for them”

That reassurance seemed to bring smiles to their faces. Aziraphale did all that he could to keep them there. He ushered the children over to the fire where Newton was patiently waiting for them, fixed them a plate of something to eat and quietly saw to their scrapes and bruises while Adam recounted their daring escape.

He had to admit, Crowley was continually surprising him. The ingenuity of using steam from the vents to give him an advantage. His ability to neutralize the enemy swiftly without causing permanent harm. How he had so certainly lead the rest of them through the halls to the back area of the ship so they could escape. Amazing didn’t even begin to cover it.

Where had this man learned how to do all that? Aziraphale had been in disbelief over his skills the moment Crowley had shown up at the Western Air Temple. Since then, the man had tracked him all the way to the North Pole, snuck his way into the city of Agna Qel'a, past thousands of guards into the most sacred place in the whole area, and then managed to sneak them both out and no one had been the wiser.

And now? Crowley had snuck his way onto a Fire Nation ship, freed three adolescent benders and had nonchalantly hopped over to the vessel right next door to do the same thing. The plan was different this time, at least, from what Aziraphale had gathered from the children. Anathema had been the one to come up with it. Crowley _was_ famous in the Fire Nation. And as far as either of them knew, he was still considered loyal to the crown. It made sense that he could march onto the ship and talk directly to the captain. He probably would be safer off doing that, rather than sneaking around, hoping he didn’t run into any soldiers along the way.

Still, the thought of Crowley interfacing with those men made Aziraphale sick to his stomach. For a moment, he stopped to wonder why that was. He barely knew the man, and yet Crowley had somehow become his closest companion - his only companion, for the foreseeable future. Something had changed since they’d left the North Pole. Crowley had changed, Aziraphale truly believed that. And the airbender had grown fond of him. From his constant antics with Bitty to the way he pulled his own weight in setting up camp to how he had so selflessly and assuredly thrown himself in harms way to save these people he didn’t even know. Just because it was the right thing to do.

He was a good man, despite everything that had happened leading up to this. Aziraphale truly believed that.

“You’re an airbender.”

Aziraphale paused, fingers hovering on the bandage currently being wrapped around a scrape on Adam’s upper arm. Why did that voice sound so out of place? The children already knew he was an airbender. They had seen him flying with his glider that very first night, so why would they bring it up so suddenly right in the middle of Adam’s story.

Frowning, the man turned, his eyes flicking down to the glider by his side, then up in the direction that voice had come from.

There was a boy, flanked by two adults, one on either side. He had shoulder length, black hair, and simple clothes reminiscent of some of the farmers or field workers Aziraphale had run into over the past ten years. The boy was looking at him, dusky grey eyes wide with what appeared to be mostly awe, and just a hint of excitement.

Then Aziraphale’s eyes drifted up to the two standing on either side of him. One slender woman with long dark hair and the most intelligent eyes he’d ever seen, standing next to a stockier man only a hair shorter than her, sporting a wide, triumphant grin.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Kuzon teased as the children all lept from their seats to tackle him to the ground in a giant group hug. Even Newton rose from forest floor to approach the missing members of their group, making a line straight for Anathema, whose arms were already extended out to greet him. “You should know by now that we’d find our way out of that tight spot eventually.”

Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. Once again, he let his eyes drift over the young boy who he had never met, past Kuzon and Anathema’s familiar, yet tired faces, to the forest beyond. He hoped to catch a glimpse of something - a flash of flaming red hair, a glint of amber eyes. But there was nothing.

Crowley was nowhere to be found.

“All - all of you?” he stuttered, barely able to find his voice through the lump that had just formed in his throat.

Kuzon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah, of course, we all - “ He broke off, turning around as his eyes, too, began searching for something that wasn't there.

“Sorry,” a voice echoed from the other side of the clearing and Aziraphale’s entire body flooded with relief. Crowley came stumbling into view, his arms still caught in his robe as he tried to right it as quickly as possible. “Wanted to change back into my normal clothes. Those blasted Fire Nation uniforms are itchier than a hoard of mosquito-fly bites.”

Kuzon let out a boisterous laugh as the other firebender came to join them. He righted himself, tying the final sash around his waist before lifting his eyes to Aziraphale’s face and offering up a hesitant smile, which the airbender returned wholeheartedly with a wide grin.

He took a step forward to instinctively greet his companion, then stopped short as his eyes fell once more to the unfamiliar child. The boy was still staring up with him in wide-eyed wonder. What was going on? Why did he suddenly feel like something significant had happened and he was the only one still struggling to catch up? 

_Kuzon and Warlock were taken to the other ship._ Was this who the other children had been talking about? They had been afraid the Fire Nation would kill a _child_? Why?

“You must be Warlock.”

The moment he said those words, everyone in the clearing fell silent. Aziraphale was tempted to look back up at Crowley, to silently ask what in the world was going on, but he found himself stuck, unable to look away from Warlock’s young face. Something shimmered in his grey eyes - a mixture of wonder and apprehension. It was true that the child had probably never seen an airbender before, he wasn’t old enough to remember a world where they had been plentiful, but why would that fact make him act so wary around Aziraphale?

“Go on,” Crowley nudged from behind, sending the boy stumbling a step forward. Warlock looked back at the man, smiling fondly down at him, but there was something hidden in Crowley’s eyes. A guarded look, like he was trying very hard to keep his current thoughts to himself. “You’re the one that wanted to talk to him.”

“Me? Aziraphale asked, shocked that his name had even come up on conversation while they were trying to escape the Fire Nation’s clutches. “Why me?”

“Because you’re an airbender,” Warlock answered, so quietly. So simply. “Like me.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, snapping up to Crowley’s face in an instant as he looked for reassurance that this was real. How could this boy be an airbender? He was likely no older than a few months when the comet had struck. How could he have managed to escape such an atrocity? How had he known to keep himself safe until now?

The firebender met his gaze and gave a small nod, tears in his eyes. The realization crashed into Aziraphale all at once and he fell slowly to his knees, tears in his eyes as he looked at the child with a wonder of his own.

“It is an honor to meet you, Warlock,” he managed to push out, past the wall of emotion welling up inside him. Aziraphale smiled, blinking back tears, his heart bursting with joy as the boy grinned back, stepping forward to give him a hug. Aziraphale chocked back a sob as his hands folded over the loose fabric of Warlock’s shirt. This was really happening. This was real. He’d found another airbender, when he feared he might be the last.

“It’s an honor to meet you too, Aziraphale.”

A single tear slid down his cheek and Aziraphale found himself looking up at Crowley in awe. The firebender offered him a tentative smile, obviously trying to hold back tears of his own at the touching reunion.

“I am so glad you managed to get yourself out of there,” Aziraphale announced, pulling back to take in the boy’s face again. A wide smile was there to greet him, all of the previous hesitation gone, as if it had never existed.

“It was so cool!” the child suddenly began, transforming instantly from shy to boisterous now that his feet were back on solid ground and he was among friends and family again. Aziraphale smiled to himself and released him, watching the boy relay the harrowing trials he’d been through. “Crowley pretended like he was going to interrogate Kuzon and took him into another room. We were all just kind of waiting around, and then the second the door open and Kuzon stepped out it was all like ‘Whoosh’! ‘Flash”! “Bam!”

Confusion clouded Aziraphale’s mind and he looked up for an explanation. Anathema smiled fondly at the boy, then began her translation.

“I noticed Kuzon had his hands bound in front of him, instead of behind. That could only mean one thing, so I took it upon myself to freeze those two captains to their cabin wall. They won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

Kuzon nodded, stepping in to relay the rest of the story. “While Anathema was busy taking care of those goons, I took out the other guards and Crowley here,” he paused, looking up to flash the other firebender an approving grin, “He stepped right up to keep young Warlock safe. Stopped three different fire blasts straight in their tracks without batting an eye.”

Crowley smiled. “Four,” he amended, in an attempt to lighten the mood, but something was off. Aziraphale could tell. There was something going on with Crowley. Something he didn’t feel comfortable talking about with this many people around. Aziraphale would simply have to wait until later to check in with him and find out just what had happened on that ship.

“Show-off.”

They retired to the campfire, passing around food and drinks, bandaging each other up and relaying a blow by blow of every event that occurred. Aziraphale found that he was content to sit and listen. To bask in the glow of their victory and the warmth that this camaraderie brought. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits that evening. And why shouldn’t they be? After everything they had been through, they deserved to be happy. They deserved to simply have the night to just be together. And that was exactly what they all did.

All except one.

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked as he finally approached the lone firebender, secluding himself from the rest of the group several hundred feet away. He was still within eyesight - still able to arrive quickly should trouble arise, but far enough away he didn’t have to partake in the festivities.

The airbender settled in beside Crowley, feeling the coolness of the ground seeping up through the fabric of his faded trousers. That all-too familiar sensation of his chest beginning to tighten around his heart and lungs unnerved the airbender as he watched his companion with silent blue eyes. Was the man sitting beside him, so cold and silent, regretting what he had done? Was he wishing he’d turned Aziraphale in when he’d had the chance? So much had changed in the past few weeks. It was hard to tell where Crowley stood.

“You did the right thing, you know,” he continued, trying to lift Crowley’s spirits, if only a little. “There’s a very good chance some of them wouldn’t be alive right now, if you hadn’t taken charge. Done what you had to, to get them out.”

“I know,” the man murmured quietly, almost too soft to hear. Aziraphale’s brow furrowed as he studied Crowley’s form beside him. The crease of his brow, the way his knees were tucked up against his chest, protecting the most vulnerable part of him. The way his curious eyes gazed out into the forest, not alert, looking for any trouble, but far off and distant.

“Then I don’t understand - “

“When is it going to end?” the words tumbled from Crowley’s lips, stabbing at Aziraphale’s heart. His chest felt tight, his heart heavy, when he looked at the sheer _grief_ reflected in the other man’s eyes. Of course. He should have been more sensitive. He shouldn’t have pushed so far when it was clear Crowley wanted to be left alone. While the reality of this world may have been true for Aziraphale, Crowley didn’t share those same experiences. For him, these past ten years had been vastly different. He’d been able to separate himself from the war. From the fighting and the fear. The panic and the loss. And now? He’d been thrust into a role he didn’t understand - that he may not even want. He’d lost his home, whatever family he may have, all without a single spark being struck.

“What use is saving them today when tomorrow, they’re just going to turn around and throw themselves back into the fire?” Crowley took in a deep shuddering breath, his shoulders shaking with every syllable. Aziraphale felt the sudden instinct to reach out and take his hand, but the uncomfortable churn of his stomach convinced him otherwise. Crowley didn’t want his comfort. Of all people that could have been here right now, Aziraphale was certainly the last person Crowley wanted by his side. It was the airbender’s fault, after all, that the man was in this mess to begin with. 

“How is it the _right thing_ to spend each waking moment fighting off disaster - surviving by the skin of our teeth - only to have to wake up and do it all over again?”

Silence fell between the pair as Aziraphale struggled with what to say. Ever since that fateful day over ten years ago, he’d been living this life of constant fear. Of struggling to survive every day. That had been difficult enough when he only had himself to look after. Now, with the unspoken offer to join the Freedom Fighters, that struggle had just increased drastically. If he decided to stay with Kuzon and the others, how long until one of them got hurt? How long until the Fire Nation found him again, and tried to have them all killed?

There were so many things Aziraphale wanted to ask his companion. What did he plan to do? Did he want to join Kuzon’s group, or vanish somewhere in the Earth Kingdom, never to be seen again? Was he looking for camaraderie and community, or did he want to start over with people who were unaware of his past? Unconcerned with all that he had done?

“What is it you want?”Aziraphale asked, a lump forming in his throat. He had no reasonable explanation why he was growing so emotional in this moment. Perhaps it was the crisp feeling of the night air against his skin, or the feeling of comfort beginning to settle into his stomach. It had been a long time since Aziraphale had felt like this. Like he had a family. He’d forgotten how nice a feeling it could be.

“I want the fighting to end,” Crowley answered, his hands tightening on each other as he kept his golden gaze fixed on the forest floor. “I want Sozin to bring his troops home and leave everyone alone to live their lives in peace.” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “But it doesn’t matter what I want, does it? ‘S not like I can do anything that would change things. It’s only going to get worse.”

There was something _unspoken_ lingering in the space between them, and though he tried to dissect the firebender’s words, he could not figure out just what Crowley meant. If Aziraphale wanted to know, he had a sinking feeling he couldn’t just sit around and wait for things to be explained to him.

“What do you mean, worse?” Aziraphale finally had to ask. It was clear Crowley was keeping something from him. The real question wasn’t what that bit of information was - but rather, why the man decided he needed to keep it to himself. As crazy as it may seem, Aziraphale trusted Crowley. It may not have made sense even a few days ago, but this man had not only risked his own life to save people he didn’t even know, but he had also done it all to keep Aziraphale safe. That had to _mean_ something. 

Slowly, the man turned to meet his gaze and Aziraphale’s heart stopped. There were tears pooling in those _brilliant_ eyes. Crowley’s lip was quivering, his hands shaking, although it was clear he was trying to hold them steady in his white-knuckled grip. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, horribly wrong.

“When I was on the ship - Anathema and the other guard had gone to fetch Kuzon and the two captains asked me to join them - join their cause.” He paused, taking in a deep, shaking breath. Looking at Aziraphale as if he were some fragile piece of glass. Like he might break at any moment. “They’re leaving the area tonight. Headed south.”

“Some other mission?” the airbender prompted when Crowley did not immediately continue. What else could the Fire Nation be tasked with doing that would take these ships south? Was it just the two of them, or were they meeting up with others? Aziraphale tried to picture the coastline and which location in the Earth Kingdom they could be preparing to strike. 

“Aziraphale.” There was pain in his voice as it broke with the name. Aziraphale’s heart hovered in his chest, waiting for disaster to strike, completely unable to breathe. 

“They’re heading for the Southern Water Tribe.”

The words sounded distant in his ears, like Crowley was somehow standing very far away. Ridiculous, he knew, due to the fact that he could still see Crowley _very clearly_ , sitting right next to him. As the seconds ticked by and the silence grew louder, that image grew just a bit fuzzy around the edges. Aziraphale went to draw in a deep breath, the words playing over and over in his mind as he struggled to comprehend them, and instead found that he couldn’t move his lungs at all.

Tears pooled in his eyes, running burning hot down his cheeks as the airbender continued to stare at Crowley. His vision blurred until he couldn’t see anything at all, apart from dark shapes blending into the foliage behind them. Aziraphale tried to catch his breath, tried to lift his hands from the forest floor and wipe the moisture away so he could see again, but he couldn’t move. He could barely think past the words that had been spoken. Hardly had the strength to close his eyes, let alone lift a hand or expand his lungs.

_Southern Water Tribe. They’re heading for the Southern Water Tribe._

This could not be happening. Not again. How many lives had to be lost for Fire Lord Sozin to have his fill? How much blood needed to be shed before people took a stand? What possible _excuse_ could he have fabricated this time to get people to follow him?

A voice sounded again at the edge of his hearing. He tried to focus on it - tried to bring himself back, but all he could hear were screams, growing louder with each passing second. All he could see was the blaze of fire as the red-hot comet streaked across the sky. All of a sudden, the breath he was struggling so desperately to catch came rushing back into his lungs. Aziraphale felt his chest rapidly starting to rise and fall against his will. He was breathing in and out over and over and over again, but it wasn’t helping. If anything, he felt more out of breath than he had before. His lungs were burning, limbs shaking at his sides. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. He was dying and no one had lifted a finger to harm him.

“Aziraphale.”

A touch against his cheek brought him back. That warm, soft presence banished the fire and the noise and Aziraphale was surrounded by tall trees, breathing in the scent of pine and earth and rain on the horizon. He blinked, tears still falling fresh on his face, and saw that Crowley was still there beside him, one hand grasping firmly onto his own, the other resting gently against his cheek, brushing away the moisture as best he could.

Aziraphale had never been this close to him before. There were flecks of gold in his amber eyes, so bright they almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. The bridge of his nose was bent - a broken nose that hadn’t healed quite right, and there was the tiniest scar across his left brow. Only visible by the handful of hairs still missing along the thin, pale line.

“I - can’t - “ he gasped, finally finding the strength to reach his arm up and place his hand across the back of Crowley’s wrist. Blue eyes rose to meet his gaze and he found those eyes swimming with unmasked pain and maybe something _more_. “I can’t go through it again.”

“You won’t have to,” Crowley affirmed, squeezing his hand a little bit tighter. Aziraphale could feel his arm still trembling, but with the firebender’s hand against his face, the pad of his thumb dancing over the skin beneath his eyes, the airbender felt a moment of calm. Those eyes that he had once thought were so strange and frightening, now only appeared a source of calm in the storm inside him. “We will find a way. We can get word to them. Warn them. Give them enough time to - “

“No,” Aziraphale shook his head, shifting away slightly so he could see the entirety of Crowley’s face. The hand fell away, and for a moment he thought about chasing it. The chill of the northern air hit him like an electric shock and in that moment, all he wanted was for someone to wrap their arms around him like Newton had with Anathema, or the children had done with Kuzon when they had been reunited earlier that night. Squeezing tightly on the hand still in his, Aziraphale forced himself to focus on what was most important. “No, it won’t be enough. If Sozin is the one calling the attack, he’ll call in the entire navy. One simple letter won’t be enough to save them. They’ll be annihilated.”

Sozin wouldn’t have a comet leading the way this time, but he wouldn’t need it. Not against the Southern Water Tribe. There were so few of them at the south pole. With the entire Navy at his disposal, even with the power of a full moon at their backs, which he was positive they wouldn't have, the waterbenders wouldn’t stand a chance.

“We need Aang.”

A furrow made its way onto Crowley’s brow. Several seconds passed and Aziraphale realized that his companion would have no idea what that name meant, or how _important_ it was.

“Aang?” The question left his lips as a whisper, but Aziraphale’s mouth was already moving to form his reply.

“We need to find him.” A single, slow breath filled his lungs as the airbender found his resolve. He didn’t have the luxury of _not_ trusting Crowley anymore. Not when the very fate of their world might very well depend on his help. “He’s the only chance we’ve got.”

“Only the Avatar can save us now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took way longer to write than I intended it to. I feel like for the past four days, I've woken up and thought 'This is the day. Time to go finish that chapter!" and it just never happened. So sorry for the wait! I've been struggling a bit recently trying to get the right words out. Hopefully the next chapter comes easier (the next part of their story is my absolute favorite, so I am hoping it comes easier)
> 
> Hope you all are doing well! I've got some more surprises up my sleeve for this story (coming later this week, I hope) and I can't wait to share them all with you!


	21. Onward to Kyoshi

Crowley still couldn’t believe it. A full lunar cycle had passed since he’d first discovered Aziraphale’s existence. Several weeks of tracking him down, and then the same amount of time traveling by his side and not _once_ had the airbender mentioned he had personally known the Avatar.

Of course, given Crowley’s history, he completely understood why Aziraphale would neglect to mention that fact until absolutely necessary. Still, he prided himself on being observant. Of knowing his target. How had he not even considered this to be a possibility? Why had he not asked Azirapahle that one, very simple question?

“Are you sure this is going to work?” the firebender asked as they stood on the shores of the bay once more. The ships were gone, deciding it wasn’t worth the risk of defying direct orders to go after a few escaped rebels. Hastur and Ligur were proud, but they weren’t stupid. If Fire Lord Sozin had told them to relocate to the South Pole, they would do exactly that. Right after they stopped off back home to plug the unfortunate hole Anathema and the kids had left in the stern of their vessel.

Aziraphale sighed, rustling through his bag once more to make sure they had all the supplies they needed. “No,” he admitted quietly, voice carrying much further than expected in the soft light of dawn rapidly approaching. “I’m not, but what other choice do we have? I’m fresh out of ideas.”

The idea was a bold one, and something that Crowley never would have conceived on his own. They had six days before the raid was scheduled to happen. That was barely enough time to make it to the southern most shores of the Earth Kingdom, let alone all the way to the Southern Water Tribe, and they would only get half as far by travelling on foot. Despite all this, Aziraphale was determined to see his plan through. And Crowley wasn’t about to let him do it alone, no matter how long of a shot it was.

“We need to find Aang,” he repeated for probably the dozenth time in half as many hours. “As the Avatar, his spirit is linked with all of his previous lives.” A pause as Aziraphale finally decided that there was nothing left of he could think to pack. They had food enough for at least two weeks, a change of clothes, tools to make camp. He was even bringing along his glider, just in case they ran into any trouble along the way. It was a heavy load to carry, but one he wouldn’t have to carry alone. Crowley would make sure of that. “Ideally we’d travel to the Fire Nation to try and get into contact with his most recent life, but I have a feeling that trying to talk to Avatar Roku’s spirit might be more trouble for us than it’s worth. Especially after that stunt you pulled freeing Kuzon and Warlock.”

Crowley simply nodded, hoping his companion would elaborate. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what the plan was, the firebender just didn’t understand exactly how they were going to pull it off. When it came to all this spiritual mumbo-jumbo, he was more than a little unprepared.

“Avatar Kyoshi was the Avatar before Roku,” Aziraphale continued, his blue eyes glancing up and over Crowley’s shoulder as he began to shift his weight impatiently back and forth from one leg to the other. It was obvious he was anxious to get moving. They both were, but it wasn’t quite time. There was still one missing piece to their puzzle. “Her island is at the southernmost tip of the Earth Kingdom. It’s as close to the South Pole as we can get. It only makes sense to try and contact Aang there.”

The firebender offered up no protest. How could he, when he had no idea how Aziraphale was going to pull this off. The Avatar connecting to spirits? That was one thing. Aziraphale was just a regular airbender. Yes, he’d likely had spiritual training growing up, but would that be enough to find this Aang fellow in time?

“What is taking Kuzon so long?” the airbender finally huffed, reaching up a hand to ruffle his thick tangle of curls. “He should have been back by now.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back any minute,” Crowley assured, eyes drifting down, a few feet away where Bitty was curled up against a tree trunk, snoozing away. A soft smile lit up his face as the firebender thought about the previous night and how she’d spent half of it rotating from tent to tent, making sure her time was evenly spread out between all those in their little group. “He knows how much is at stake here.”

Before Aziraphale could say another word, Crowley heard a loud crashing in the distance. He tensed, arm reaching out reflexively to grab onto Aziraphale’s wrist and pull him back toward the shore, away from whatever was rapidly closing in on them. It was large - bigger than the platypus bear they had run into just a few days prior.

He readied himself for the attack, breath coursing through his lungs as the lumbering figure drew nearer, and turned just enough for Crowley to catch a glimpse of the rider on top.

“What in the - “ he began, breaking his stance just as a long, narrow snout came into view.

It was a deep, emerald green, with shining skin and flaring nostrils on a nose bigger than Crowley’s outstretched hand. Deep black eyes shimmered in the morning sun as the beast exhaled, coming to a halt mere inches from where Crowley stood. It craned its neck down, sniffing at the firebender’s left shoulder as the man glanced up to see Kuzon quickly hopping out of the saddle and sliding down to the ground.

“Kuzon, where did you find him?” Aziraphale’s voice echoed Crowley’s own thoughts, in a much more eloquent manner than he could have come up with on his own. 

“One of the benefits of leading a team of forest-dwelling vigilantes,” the man huffed, his breath coming out in a puff of fog that billowed around him, “is that you make a lot of very grateful friends.”

Without another word, Kuzon took a step forward and handed the reins to Aziraphale. He took them, a solemn look in his eyes that caused Crowley’s heartbeat to spike. This was it. They were really going to ride an eel-hound all the way to Kyoshi Island. A trip that would normally take several weeks on foot could be made over the course of two days with a creature known to be the swiftest over both land and sea. Crowley and Aziraphale really were going to try and find the Avatar. To try and stop the Fire Nation before it wiped out yet another group of people for no reason other than to satisfy the greedy hands of their leader.

“What will you do?” he found Aziraphale asking when the firebender’s mind returned to the present. He blinked, moving to take Aziraphale’s bag from him so they could begin packing the saddle. The airbender handed it over without a word, too engrossed in his conversation with Kuzon to even notice.

“We are going to send word to some friends in high places,” Kuzon responded, his face disappearing from sight as Crowley maneuvered to the eel-hound’s left side. Using one hand, he hoisted himself up into the stirrup, balancing his weight over the creature’s back as he slipped one bag after another into the saddle’s rear pouch. “Try to get as much back up to you all as we can.”

Once again, Crowley’s heart began to race. Would that really work? What was their plan here, exactly? He and Aziraphale had taken it upon themselves to find the Avatar, but what if that plan failed? If he really was gone, it didn’t matter how many Freedom Fighter friends Kuzon had. There wouldn’t be enough of them to take on the entire Fire Nation navy.

And if by some miracle, their plan didn’t fail - if Aziraphale was able to connect with the Avatar on Kyoshi island, would that be enough? Crowley failed to see how one man, no matter who he was, would be enough to turn the tides of battle in their favor. 

“Even if you were able to muster an army - ” Aziraphale began, echoing Crowley’s own concerns. Kuzon cut him off immediately with what the firebender assumed was a stern look and a confident gleam in his eyes.

“You two worry about what you need to do,” he responded, voice hard and somewhat reassuring. “Let us handle the rest, alright? We will meet you in Kyoshi in five days time.”

Five days. Five days until whatever rag-tag team Kuzon could gather met at the southernmost point of the Earth Kingdom. Five days until they rallied to fight off the greatest tyrant their world had ever known. For on the sixth day, they would go to war, and some of them - many of them - would not come back from it.

Crowley slid himself gently back to the ground, his feet nimbly escaping the stirrup he’d used to hoist himself up. Slowly, he reached down to wipe the sweat from his palms, glancing over to the tree once more where Bitty was resting. She’d woken up enough to lift her head, quivering nose turned in the direction of the forest behind her. Was that a tell that someone else was approaching? He wouldn’t be surprised if the shirshu could smell them coming miles away.

For a brief moment, the firebender’s stomach sank and his heart filled with fear. What if the Fire Nation had found them? He’d gone to the bay’s shore himself earlier that morning as dawn had broken upon the horizon to verify that they were, in fact, gone. But what if he had missed something? What if Aziraphale was still in danger here.

That fear was short lived, for a second later, Bitty leapt to her feet, tail wagging wildly from side to side. She recognized whoever was approaching, and moments later, so did Crowley.

“Wait!” a small voice cried as two boys crashed through the underbrush, followed momentarily by a third, very much out of wind man. Newton’s glasses were practically falling off his face, his hair standing on end as if he’d taken both his hands and ruffled it up on both sides. He wasn’t a very well kept man on most days, but even this looked out of place for him.

“You can’t go!” Warlock was protesting, and Crowley noticed the way his voice hitched in the process. His eyes fell to meet the boy’s and within them he could see the shimmer of tears just beginning to surface. And no wonder. All the children had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and here they were, expected to say goodbye to another friend. All too soon.

“You have to take me with you, you have to _teach_ me.” Crowley’s eyes widened. Come with them? Was the child crazy? Why in the world would he want to travel halfway across the world with someone he’d only just met? Even if Aziraphale was the only other airbender he knew, this boy certainly had a family that must be wondering where he was. He should return to them while he still had the chance.

“Teach you?” Aziraphale asked, clearly just as shocked as Crowley felt. “My dear boy, it’s too dangerous to teach you airbending. As long as you are a bender, the Fire Nation will have a target on your back.” He sighed, emotions clearly getting the best of him. Once again, Crowley felt guilt roil within him. How much of his companion’s sorrow was he responsible for? How much of the pain that Aziraphale was forced to bear every day was his fault? Because he hadn’t done enough. Because he’d believed the lies. Because he’d been the cause of that girl’s death.

 _Katone,_ the firebender chastised himself as his eyes danced to the ground. _Her name was Katone._

Arms hanging at his side, Crowley found his fingers absentmindedly drawn to his pocket, where a small, feather-light necklace was safely tucked away. Breath caught in his throat as he turned the jewelry over in his hands, safe and out of sight from anyone nearby. He’d completely forgotten about the pendant he'd tucked away all those days ago. He'd taken it from Bealz initially in the hopes it might help him track Aziraphale down. With everything that had happened, it seemed silly to still be holding onto it now. He should give it back to Aziraphale, some other time when they were finally alone again.

“The safest thing for you to do is to go home, Warlock. Go home and don’t ever raise a hand to airbend again.”

“I _can’t_ ,” the boy sobbed with a voice so heart wrenching, Crowley was forced to look up. He couldn’t turn his eyes away from this. Whatever he may feel now, that didn’t excuse what he’d done in the past. If he truly wanted to make up for everything, ignoring the situation right in front of him for shame was no way to go about it.

“They know my face,” Warlock continued, a single tear dripping down his cheek. “They saw me airbend the night they attacked my village. I didn't even know I could do that! I saw the blast headed toward us and it just happened.” The boy took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t go back until I know how to protect my dad. I put him in danger when all I was trying to do was keep him safe, and - “

Warlock’s voice cut off as Kuzon reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Adam, who had remained silent through this whole interaction, turned his eyes toward Aziraphale, waiting for the airbender to reply. From where he was currently standing, Crowley couldn’t see the other man’s face, but based on the tension between all of them, he could hazard a guess as to what it might look like.

“Warlock joined us,” Kuzon supplied, taking half a step closer to the boy, “to keep his father and the other villagers safe. We were there when the Fire Nation attacked his village. I saw him bending with my own eyes. As did half a dozen soldiers.”

The tangled mess of blonde curls bobbed up and down for a moment. Crowley was still struggling to comprehend how normal people, just like him, had been convinced to carry out such atrocious deeds. Killing a _child_ because he was an airbender? It seemed unthinkable, and yet it had been Aziraphale’s life for a decade now. He understood.

“He’s the only family I’ve got,” Warlock sniffed and Crowley’s heart went out to him. Just because he hadn’t experienced the most loving of families didn’t mean he didn’t know they existed somewhere. “My mom died when I was really young.”

In that moment, Aziraphale looked up and turned his head toward Crowley. Their eyes met and in them, he saw an odd mixture of sorrow and something akin to hope. His heart thudded against his chest, lungs constricting against his will. 

“It was safer, at the time,” Kuzon continued, breaking through their moment. Crowley felt heat rise to his cheeks and he quickly looked away, serpentine eyes searching for where Bitty had ended up. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he spotted her sitting patiently by Adam’s side, front paws resting gently on his feet. “For Warlock to come with us. He’d become a target, and in order to keep his dad safe, he couldn’t stay.”

“And you can’t go back,” Crowley felt himself supplying, taking half a step forward, “until you know how to use your bending. Or at least how to properly hide it.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “You can’t possibly be suggesting - “

“Where else is safer, Aziraphale?” Crowley inquired, feeling the heaviness of this moment weighing down on his heart. He could understand why Aziraphale wouldn’t want to take Warlock with them. There was no guarantee they would even make it to Kyoshi, and if they did, there was still the matter of a whole Fire Nation Navy they would have to fight. With or without the Avatar. That was no place for a ten year old boy, and yet, there was nowhere else for Warlock to go. He couldn’t return home to his family, and if he stayed with Kuzon and the others, he would end up in the same place eventually, with six fewer days of training from the only other airbender in the world, that Crowley knew of.

“We can keep him safe, just as well as Kuzon and the others could.” Crowley didn’t understand exactly why this was so important to him. He’d only just met the boy less than twelve hours ago, and yet the thought of leaving him behind _hurt_. Perhaps it was the way Warlock had first looked at him in that cell - like he was some sort of hero. Like he was one of the good guys. Or maybe this was his way of trying to make up for all that he had done wrong. It had been his fault the last airbender he’d met had died. Maybe bringing Warlock and Aziraphale together was a way to bring some good back into the word. “And if he’s with us, you can teach him what he needs to know so he can go back home.”

Aziraphale was silent for a while, likely thinking through each and every possible outcome to this scenario. As they waited, Crowley’s eyes flickered back and forth between the two younger boys’ faces. Warlock, his brow furrowed in anticipation. Adam, as stoic as could be. They had been forced to grow up so quickly. How many of the kids he’d gone to school with would have done what these kids had done? How many of them would have faced such horrors with such bravery, and still been able to hold onto that sense of that child-like joy.

Eventually a soft, slow sigh escaped from the airbender’s lips. He nodded his head in the direction of the eel-hound, stepping forward to help a now grinning Warlock up into the saddle. Tears pricked at the firebender’s eyes as the young airbender turned around and embraced the boy beside him, Bitty rising to her feet, tail thumping loudly against Adam’s leg.

“I’ll see you in Kyoshi,” the curly haired boy murmured as they separated. It was a relief to see that even in this time separated from the only family he knew, Warlock was surrounded by people from all parts of the world that cared for him. “Five days.”

Warlock nodded before hoisting himself up into the saddle. Aziraphale climbed on right after, positioning himself at the front, reins in hand. Crowley supposed, out of all of them, the airbender was the best one to lead. As a child, he likely would have traveled to all corners of the world. If anyone could navigate them to Kyoshi Island, it would be an air nomad.

Before climbing on behind his companions, Crowley paused to kneel in front of Adam and Kuzon. The boy had done a wondrous job of mastering his brave face, but his eyes betrayed the worry that was hovering around all of them. Saying goodbye to a friend in this day and age was never a certain thing.

“Do you think you could do me a favor, Adam?” Crowley asked, reaching down to scratch the shirshu behind her ears. Bitty leaned forward to nuzzle at his hand, but remained firmly by the boy’s side, as if she could sense his rising anxieties. “Could you take care of her while we’re separated? I think she’d enjoy having the lot of you around and, quite frankly,” he paused glancing up at Kuzon with a teasing grin, “your fearless leader could use a bit of help in the navigation department. Bitty can find us. No matter where we go.”

Adam nodded, not making a single sound. His hazel eyes were wide, trained on Crowley’s face not in disgust or fear, like the firebender was so used to seeing. This boy trusted him with his whole heart. He believed Crowley would do everything in his power to keep Warlock safe. He believed Crowley was on their side - was as dedicated as they all were to doing their part to save the Southern Water Tribe and end this war.

And then his eyes shifted back up to Kuzon. Though very different in stature, his eyes held that same look. It was such a vast change from the first time Crowley had run into the man in these woods that for a moment, the firebender thought he might be dreaming. This was real. These people believed in him, relied on him, in a way no one else in his life ever had.

There was nothing that was going to stand in his way now. Crowley was determined not to take this chance he’d been given for granted. He was going to do all in his power to do the right thing so that maybe, just maybe, he’d finally be worthy of that trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth about whether to split this chapter or keep it one big thing, and ultimately I decided to end this one here. The next chapter will be Crowley, Warlock and Aziraphale travelling to Kyoshi and I was worried if I didn't split it, I would be tempted to rush through the journey. And I didn't want to do that to you guys because you deserve ALL the FAMILY BONDING that is about to happen <3 Did someone request the 'found family' trope in this fic? Because I've fallen so hard into it, lol. Ready yourselves. This is your warning :)
> 
> ALSO! If any of you are interested (and didn't know about it already), I started a new Good Omens/Megamind AU. All the humor that glorious movie has to offer, mixed in with so many of our favorite characters. It is called "Hereditary Enemies" and can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242948
> 
> I would love for you to check it out!!!


	22. A Strange Feeling

“Is there anything you can teach me now? Before we get to Kyoshi?”

Aziraphale blinked, dried fruit in hand as he turned his attention toward the young boy seated next to him on the ground. Warlock had finished his lunch already and was staring down at a single leaf in his palm, blowing on it lightly, trying to spin it around. It wasn’t airbending exactly. At least, there was no additional wind being supplied except for the breath from his lungs. If he had to guess, Aziraphale would assume that Warlock had never properly airbended before. Based on what he’d been told, what had transpired in the boy’s village had been nothing more than a reaction. A desperate attempt to save the one person he cared about the most.

Looking up, the airbender’s blue eyes danced over the edges of the clearing, coming to rest momentarily on Crowley’s form before finishing the circle. There was no one else around that he could tell, and they were relatively far from any known village or town. The chances of being discovered were slim at best, but even the knowledge of that fact did nothing to put him at ease.

He went to respond, only to have the words stick in his throat. Warlock looked up at him with wide eyes, patiently waiting to hear what he might say. Clearing his throat, Aziraphale once again turned toward his companion. Crowley was looking at him intently with those bright, serpentine eyes. What was he thinking in that moment? Was he waiting to hear what Aziraphale might say? Curious to watch one of the last few airbenders in his craft? 

After everything that had happened on the Fire Nation ships, Aziraphale trusted Crowley implicitly. There was no longer that nagging voice in the back of his head telling him this whole venture had been a mistake. The firebender had proven himself in Aziraphale’s eyes, so when Crowley met his gaze and nodded his head slowly, a rush of relief coursed through him.

Aziraphale had never really stopped to ask the firebender exactly how he had managed to get everyone off those ships. Naturally, in the excitement of the previous night, he had gathered quite a bit of information second-hand, from the children and Anathema. Crowley had been there for part of it, never saying a word to elaborate or explain any details the children left out.

Was this how all the rumors had started? Aziraphale remembered the very first night he’d spent with Kuzon’s Freedom Fighters, after he’d helped quell the fires in that one small village. Anathema and Newton had left at one point to put the children to bed, leaving airbender and firebender a rare moment in which to talk.

Kuzon hadn’t revealed much about Crowley in that initial conversation except to warn Aziraphale not to underestimate him. He’d given no details how someone who was barely twenty-one years of age had become one of the most notorious mercenaries the Fire Nation had ever known.

How was it that Crowley was able to do the things he could? How could he track a single individual across half the world? How could he sneak aboard a naval ship completely undetected? The way Anathema and the children had described what happened - it almost sounded like Crowley had _known_ where the soldiers were without seeing or hearing them. He’d been able to move about the ship such that their path was never crossed. It was an amazing feat, really, but an almost unbelievable one. How had he managed it?

Maybe once they reached Kyoshi, he would find the time and the courage to ask.

“The key to airbending,” Aziraphale began, scooting a bit closer to Warlock and turning to pick up his own fallen leaf from the forest ground, “is clearing your mind and connecting with the element around you.” He extended his palm and let the curved leaf teeter back and forth for a bit, shadows melding into the dappled pattern of light the forest cast overtop of them all.

“You cannot force air to do your bidding. Like water, it is a fluid element.” Aziraphale released a breath feeling the gentle breeze against his cheeks. It was moments like these where he missed the feeling of the wind on the top of his head. He supposed, now that his tattoos were gone, it would be safe to shave his curls off again. Although, given that he was supposed to be giving up airbending, perhaps that wasn’t the best of ideas.

Just because he no longer looked like an airbender, didn’t mean he was automatically safe for the rest of his lifetime. 

“You have to allow yourself to flow with it, as much as it flows with you.” The leaf began to spin slowly in his palm, picking up speed as Aziraphale continued to breathe in deeply and slowly. With every second that passed by, the wind picked up speed, spinning the leaf faster and faster until it lifted up into the air, carried in the arms of a mini tornado of his own making.

“You have to be flexible,” he explained, allowing the wind to die down so Warlock might try his hand at the same action. “Each time you meet resistance, you must move the other way. You cannot force your will upon the element like an earthbender. All you can do is be a guide.”

Warlock nodded his head, grey eyes narrowing in concentration. Silently, Aziraphale watched as the young boy took in a deep breath, then exhaled with much gentler motion than the first time he’d tried. 

The leaf moved, spinning three times in a consecutive circle before wobbling to a stop once more. Warlock looked up with hesitation in his eyes, not entirely sure if he had accomplished the task. One smile from Aziraphale, and that hesitation turned into wonder. A wide grin spread out across his face and his attention fell back to the leaf to try once more.

For a moment, Aziraphale chose to sit back and watch as Warlock spun the leaf around and around several times in his outstretched palm. He felt a sudden wave of emotion well up inside of him as memories of children running and dancing about the temples filled his mind. Back then, Aziraphale had chosen to focus on his own studies instead of helping out those who were younger than him. As he looked at Warlock now, he wondered if this was even going to work.

Aziraphale knew nothing about teaching or children, and most certainly nothing about teaching children. How in the world was he supposed to prepare Warlock to defend himself and control his bending enough to escape the Fire Nation’s notice in _five_ _days_ when it had taken him years and the airbender still managed to slip up?

“Hang on,” Warlock said suddenly, looking up from his leaf, not at Aziraphale, but over at Crowley. The firebender was seated a few paces away, long legs sprawled out on the forest floor as he munched on a slice of bread from the loaf they’d packed. Aziraphale had noticed, as he’d set everything out for their meal that afternoon, that there hadn’t been a single speck of dried meat or animal product anywhere to be seen. As an Air Nomad, he did not eat animals on principle, but Aziraphale had no hard feelings if other people chose to do so. “How is it that you firebend?”

Crowley stopped mid-munch and stared at the young boy. His bright, serpentine eyes widened a fraction of an inch as his mind processed the words that had been said. Then, as if he thought he might have heard it wrong, the firebender turned to Aziraphale, his expression searching. For what, Aziraphale did not know.

“What do you mean?” Crowley asked, swallowing the food down as he sat up a bit straighter, legs crossed in front of him. Aziraphale frowned. To him, it had been pretty clear what the boy had asked. What more clarification did Crowley need?

“Well,” the boy launched into a rather detailed explanation of his thoughts. “The earthbenders in my village back home were able to bend the earth around them. And Anathema and Brian can’t just make the water appear, you know? They have to find water around them. Or plants. Brian uses plants sometimes. And _you_ just said,” he turned to Aziraphale, grey-blue eyes shining, “to use the air around me.”

“But there’s no fire here.”

_Ah._ So that had been Warlock’s confusion. Aziraphale turned to Crowley, whose attention was back on the young boy sitting across from him. He was curious to see what the firebender would say. In the days before the comet, the airbender had done a bit of study of the other three bending styles. Though they had the four temples as their main home to return to, the Air Nomads had always been _nomads._ In addition to traveling from one temple to the next, they spent some time during certain parts of the year in other parts of the four nations.

Aziraphale had traveled to the Fire Nation before, years before even the whispers of a war had begun. He remembered a specific festival on Ember Island where the performers had juggled flames with many colors, backflipped through hoops and had even brought a dragon to life with their bending. He’d been in awe, back then, to witness the marvels these masters could produce with a simple breath and stance. Creating their element out of nothing.

“Firebending comes from the energy within,” Crowley answered, holding out his hand as a tiny flame sparked to life. “Much like your airbending, I imagine.”

At Warlock’s frown, Crowley took in a breath, his eyes flickering over to Azirapale’s face for a brief moment, as if asking permission to speak. When the airbender did not deny him, he continued.

“It’s a bit more evident in firebending, and airbending too,” the man explained, and Aziraphale found himself leaning forward slightly, hanging onto every word, his meal entirely forgotten. He could not explain what it was that interested him so much about their conversation. Part of him felt that he should hate firebending, after everything he’d been through. That it wouldn’t be unfair of him to ask Crowley to never firebend again. The way he’d looked over at Aziraphale just now, the caution evident in his eyes. It would seem that his companion might feel the same way.

But that was hardly fair, Aziraphale reminded himself as Warlock inched closer to look at the soft, orange light. The whole purpose of this journey was to try and find the Avatar. To bring Aang back into the world’s eyes so he could restore balance. He was no expert, but Aziraphale was certain that “restoring balance” did not mean putting the Fire Nation in its place. All four elements had a place in this world. There was as much good in fire as there was bad. It was all about how the people chose to use it.

People like Crowley, who rescued and protected and taught. Something fluttered inside Azriaphale’s chest as he watched without saying a word, not wanting to miss a single moment of the exchange unfolding in front of his eyes.

“What you’ve got to remember,” Crowley was saying as Warlock scooted up next to him, shoulders brushing as the child leaned in. For a moment, the firebender looked surprised at the physical contact. Shocked, in a way, but not entirely uncomfortable. He gazed at Warlock for a second longer before continuing on with his impromptu lesson. “Is that while there’s plenty of air around you, there’s also air inside of you.”

He reached forward with a slender finger and pointed not at Warlock’s lungs, but to the left side of his chest, where his heart resided. Aziraphale was surprised by this fact, but before he could gather the words in his mind to ask, Crowley had already continued. 

“You can use that air in your bending. With the breaths that you take.” He offered up a hesitant smile as the boy nodded, eyes flicking once more to Aziraphale’s form. “Firebenders use that same idea. We tap into the energy flowing through us, and can use that energy to create heat. Energy makes heat and heat makes fire.”

“Woah,” the boy breathed, the orange of the flame still dancing in front of him reflecting off his eyes like glass. “That’s so cool.”

“Want to know something even cooler?”

Warlock looked up instantly, his head nodding before Crowley had even had a chance to take in another breath to continue. A soft chuckle escaped Aziraphale’s lips as he looked at the pair, that strange warmth flooding his chest stronger than it had before. It reminded him of summer afternoons sitting by the mountain stream with teachers of his own. Of winter nights practicing their forms inside when he and the other boys should have been sleeping. Of games and jokes and lessons with all the people that had long been lost to him.

It reminded him of home.

“The elements are all connected, in a way.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the declaration, not because it was far-fetched or incorrect in any way, but because it had come from _Crowley_. Did they teach this sort of thing in the Fire Nation like they had in the Air Temples, or had the firebender picked up such knowledge in his many travels?

“You know, how when it rains, the water soaks down into the earth? Or how air and water come together to create thunderstorms?”

Warlock ‘hmmmd’ in agreement to show he understood. Where was Crowley going with this? Aziraphale tried to think back to his lesions, to see how teachings like this would relate to their airbending lesson, but he came up blank. Was there some kind of firebending lesson the other man had learned that could somehow help this young boy with his airbending.

“Another key element of firebending is in the breath,” he explained, inhaling deeply so Warlock could see the flame in his hands burn brighter and larger, just for a moment. Crowley exhaled and the fire flickered, but still burned brightly as it hovered over Crowley’s outstretched palm. “The _reason_ for that is because fire needs air to survive.”

When Warlock glanced up at him, confusion in his eyes, Crowley shifted back, the flame dancing before him. “Have you ever snuffed out a candle before?” As expected, Warlock had. “When you place something over the candle, it cuts off all the air around and the fire goes out.”

Realization slowly dawned on Aziraphale as the firebender rotated his body so he was no longer next to Warlock, but facing him. With both hands, he held the flame out before them face mostly turned away from the airbender still watching the pair. _Oh._ What a brilliant thing to teach the boy. Aziraphale had always considered himself to be clever, but this was a different kind of intelligence. Crowley had seen the problem from a completely different perspective. With everything he had experienced so far in his life, he had the practical knowledge to understand what techniques were basic enough for Warlock to grasp, and yet practical enough he might use them in the very real chance they ran into Fire Nation soldiers.

“You can do the same thing with your airbending,” Crowley explained, lifting a hand as if to demonstrate, then with a soft blush dusting his pale cheeks, remembering that he could not, in fact, airbend at all. “Instead of blowing air toward the flame, try coaxing it away. Just in the area right around where it is. Can you do that?”

Warlock’s brow furrowed, the very tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips as he leaned in, focusing all of his attention on the task at hand. Aziraphale felt himself smiling, anxiously waiting to see what the boy would do. Slowly, he raised both his hands, framing them on either side of the light. He took in a deep breath and the flame flickered out.

For a moment, no one spoke, all three sets of eyes focused in on where Crowley’s outstretched hands were empty. Void of even a trace of fire or smoke.

“Well, color me impressed…” Crowley trailed off, unable to find anything else to say. “You’re a natural.”

Warlock’s eyes went wide as he looked from Crowley to Aziraphale and then back to Crowley, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“I did it?”

A wide, bright grin lit up Crowley’s face as he lowered his arms back into their resting place. “You did it!”

It happened so fast, the firebender hardly had a chance to react. One minute, Warlock was seated there in front of him, blue eyes wide with shock and hesitant excitement, and the next he had thrown his arms around Crowley’s neck, taking them both to the ground. Crowley caught him with a quiet huff of air, wrapping his arm gently around the boy’s thin frame as he hugged him tight.

And _oh_ how Aziraphale’s heart simply melted in that moment. Tears rushed to his eyes as he looked over at Crowley and the young airbender - so overcome with joy at his success that he’d reached out for an embrace. And the firebender, who hardly looked like he knew what to do in response to such an act. Still, he clutched the boy tightly to him in that embrace, a trail of tears glistening in the sunlight overhead.

Tears? Aziraphale started. Had he missed something? Was Crowley hurt? Upset? What had happened?

The exact moment Aziraphale shifted to move closer, Warlock released the firebender and whirled around to face the airbender. Eyes closed in the biggest grin Aziraphale had ever seen grace a child’s face, the boy saw no traces of the emotion he had brought forth from his unsuspecting teacher.

A second later, with the swift swipe of his sleeve, the tears were gone, and Aziraphale wondered if they’d ever been there to begin with.

“Did you see me?” The boy exclaimed jumping up to his feet as he let out a blast of wind in excitement. It ruffled the branches up above them, sending a scattering of leaves down to the forest floor. “Did you see what I did, Aziraphale?”

“Of course I did, my dear,” the airbender responded, offering up a smile as Warlock skipped back over to his side to finish his meal. Briefly, the airbender glanced back at his companion, but Crowley had shifted once more and was turned away from him, amber eyes staring off into the surrounding forest as he kept watch over them both.

A quick glance at the sky. They needed to get moving soon. At this pace, there was a chance they could reach Kyoshi by morning’s light if they traveled through the night. He was a bit nervous at the prospect of having to keep awake that long, but then Aziraphale thought of everything Kuzon and the rest were likely going through to gather as much help as they could while _still_ making it across the world in just a week.

Perhaps staying awake one night wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

They pressed on until nightfall before Crowley took it upon himself to say something. Aziraphale had been at the lead since dawn, guiding the eel hound along the shoreline and through the forest in the most direct path they could take without having to worry about mountains or the Si Wong Desert. He trusted the airbender completely to get them to Kyoshi, but Crowley was worried about what would happen once they got there. This entire plan hinged on the assumption that Aziraphale would be able to contact Avatar Kyoshi’s spirit. They _needed_ him to do this in order to have any hope of helping the Southern Water Tribe escape the same fate as the Air Nomads.

Crowley didn’t know much about meditation and spiritual matters, but he did have enough common sense to realize that any task required of them would be easier to do if Aziraphale was well rested. So, after a quick break to stretch their legs and scarf down another helping of food, the firebender approached Aziraphale, reaching silently for the reins as the airbender looked up at him with soft, blue eyes.

“Let me steer for a while,” he offered. They were standing close now, so close that if Crowley wanted to, he could reach out and grab onto Azirphale’s hand - offer to help him up into the saddle as well as give him rest from the strains of keeping them on course. “You need some amount of sleep to do what you have to do tomorrow.”

For a moment, he thought Aziraphale might protest. The leather strap still remained clasped tightly in his fist as the airbender studied it. What thoughts were currently running through his mind? Was he at all concerned about handing the reins over to Crowley, of handing his _trust_ over to Crowley? The firebender could understand why. After everything he’d done.

Still, Aziraphale had to know, didn’t he? How the word ‘sorry’ couldn’t even begin to touch how he felt. How he would _never_ lift a finger to harm him or the young boy that had come with them. How all he wanted to do was protect them. On this night, and in all the nights to come.

“Do you know the way?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley blinked. He had been expecting the airbender to fight him on the proposition. Granted, this wasn’t a ‘yes’ but it wasn’t entirely a ‘no’ either.

“Point me in the right direction?” he found himself asking as amber eyes glanced up at the sky. After carefully checking their surroundings, the trio had emerged from the forest to cross a river at the edge of the desert right before they stopped. Night had fallen by now and the stars above were shining clear and bright.

Aziraphale shuffled closer, his hand brushing up against the skin of Crowley’s wrist as he lifted the hand up to point toward the sky. The firebender’s cheeks flushed with a heat so intense, he thought he might burst into flame. Aziraphale hardly seemed to notice as he took a step closer, pressing himself right up beside Crowley so his chin was perched on the firebender’s shoulder, the warmth of his cheek pressing into Crowley’s own.

“See that collection of stars, right there?” he asked with a whisper. It was all Crowley could to do to nod his head. Then, realizing Aziraphale was waiting for an actual answer, he fought down his panic and opened his mouth.

“Gui Ya? The turtleduck? Yes, I know her.”

He could feel Aziraphale smiling as he stepped away, leaving a frigid chill in the places where he once stood. “Follow that bill and you’ll arrive right on Kyoshi’s shores.

Crowley could do that. There was no doubt in his mind that he could follow the stars. For as long as he could remember, he’d been using them as his guide. Tonight would be no different.

The three piled onto the eel hound’s back and they took off. For a beast that moved so quickly, the ride was surprisingly smooth. A few minutes in, he noticed Warlock lean back against Aziraphale’s chest, head nodding off to one side as a curtain of black hair fell over the side of his face. 

Silently, so as not to wake him, the airbender reached forward and tucked the hair back behind his ear. Crowley could not see Aziraphale’s face, but he could feel the warmth radiating from his body and somehow felt, as ridiculous as it may seem, felt like the man was smiling.

“You can sleep too,” he finally found the courage to coax after another hour of following the stars south. Quiet observation told him that his companion, try as he might, was still struggling to stay awake. “I promise, I’ll keep you two safe.”

Instead of offering up a protest or offering to take the rear seat back, Aziraphale sighed and rested his head on the space between Crowley’s shoulder and neck. The firebender froze, but did his best not to make a sound. The last thing he wanted to do was alert Aziraphale to anything being wrong.

That would have been a complete lie, of course. How could anything be wrong when everything felt so right. The clear sky up above them. The feeling of Aziraphale’s soft curls tickling the base of his chin. Knowing that he and Warlock trusted him completely. They could fall asleep with no fears that something would happen, because they believed Crowley would do whatever was necessary to keep them safe.

“I know,” the airbender murmured as he drifted off and Crowley’s heart exploded with a sensation he did not understand. It was hot, but not at all like anger. And grounding, but yet made him feel like he could drift off into the night sky at the same time. It made him want to laugh and cry and hold them both tight against his chest as Warlock had done earlier that day and never let them go.

It almost felt like, well, something he hadn’t known to really exist until now. Something he’d most certainly heard people describe before, but had never experienced for himself, so he’d had nothing to tie it to. Nothing to tell him when he’d found it.

It almost felt like what he thought _love_ might feel like. 

Hours stretched on in front of him, but Crowley did not once grow bored. He did not once feel his body or his mind slipping away. This moment was far too precious to miss even a second.

By the time the moon was halfway past its zenith, they hit the southern most shores of the Earth Kingdom. Crowley thought about waking Aziraphale up, but he could still see the stars so clearly, the bill of the ever-present turtle duck constellation leading him onward. 

Let him sleep for another hour or two. There was no telling what that extra gift might give them in return when the time came.

Eventually, the morning made itself known - inky blackness making way for soft periwinkle. The water lapped softly around them, their toes dancing just above the surface as their generous steed carried them further. In the back of his mind, Crowley had known eel hounds were the fastest recorded creatures to traverse land or sea, but he hadn’t believed it until this very moment, as the faint silhouette of land finally made itself known.

Suddenly, the eel hound’s head perked up, turning toward a corner of the shoreline not too far off in the distance. Crowley squinted. The light was still low, sun not even cresting the horizon yet, so it was difficult to see what was out there. But there was something. He could sense it at the very edge of his range.

“Aziraphale,” he murmured, keeping his voice low, lips hovering in the space right by the airbender’s ear. The man turned slightly in a way that might have caused Crowley to blush with the sensation if his attention wasn’t entirely focused on their destination.

“Aziraphale, you need to wake up,” Crowley urged, a bit more intensely this time. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what awaited them on the shores of Kyoshi and it would be best for everyone involved if Aziraphale was awake and of sound mind when they came ashore.

Which, at this pace, would be any minute.

“Whassit?” he murmured sleepily, shifting against Crowley’s outstretched arm as he sat up. Warlock stirred in front of him too, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he took in their surroundings and the fact that they were currently swimming across the ocean.

“We’ve made it to Kyoshi Island,” Crowley answered, turning his gaze toward the shore and the several robed individuals that now stood shoulder to shoulder across it. “And it looks like they’ve sent out the welcoming committee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, everyone, I am SO sorry for how long this chapter took. I had a rough few weeks where I couldn't write much of anything, and then when the inspiration did return, it came back for another one of my fics ("An Angel's Hope") which I had been neglecting for some time. If I've learned anything from this past year of writing, it is to go where inspiration takes you. So I hammered out several chapters these last few weeks, finished that story out, and now I'm back to do the same with this story!
> 
> We are well on our way to my favorite part of this fic, and I've got some extra surprises for you when we get there. So thank you so much for your support and your patience. You are all wonderful and I could not do what I do with your constant encouragement <3
> 
> If you want to check out my recently finished fic, it's a fantasy/shapeshifter AU about two warring kingdoms (the avians and the serpiente). Aziraphale is a soldier and Crowley is a dancer! It's based off a book I loved growing up, but you absolutely don't have to read it to understand the story! Find it here:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542452


	23. The Shrine

The instant their feet touched down on the ground, the trio were surrounded by a dozen or so female warriors with brightly painted faces and golden fans that flashed with the barest hint of sun now rising to the east. Crowley let Aziraphale hop down first, hoping that he might be able to explain their presence here in a clearer, more concise manner. The fact that he was dressed in traditional Earth Kingdom attire and  _ didn’t  _ have eyes that resembled that of a wild beast couldn’t hurt their situation either. It was best to let him do the talking.

“What brings you travelers to Kyoshi Island?” The voice was stern, but not necessarily hostile. From his position on the other side of the eel hound, Crowley couldn’t see Aziraphale or the women who had come to greet them. That fact alone made him anxious, and he quickly held his arms out for Warlock to jump down, setting the boy gently on the ground before taking a step forward. He could tell that Warlock was still half asleep by the way he stumbled forward after Crowley, so the firebender took a moment to reach out his hand, steadying the child.

To his surprise, Warlock reached out and grabbed onto him, slipping his small hand into Crowley’s larger one as he looked up with a smile. Exhausted, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, but so  _ trusting. _ Emotion bubbled up within Crowley’s chest and he forced himself to push it away. Now was not the time for distractions. Until these women understood they were not a threat, the firebender was not about to let his guard down.

“We are here hoping to visit Kyoshi’s shrine,” Aziraphale answered as Crowley and Warlock came up beside him. Eyes turned toward the ground, his best attempt to prevent trouble from starting the moment they saw his face. “The three of us are part of a resistance group in the Northern Earth Kingdom. We have information that suggests the Fire Nation will execute a raid on the Southern Water Tribe in Five days and we were hoping - “ he paused for a moment, amending his statement.

“I was hoping I might connect with Kyoshi’s spirit, to try and find the Avatar.”

Aziraphale had dumped a lot of information on these women in the span of barely a minute, but they took it in stride. The voice that had greeted them before spoke again, not a hint of fear or suspicion to be found.

“Kyoshi Island has chosen to stay out of the war,” she explained and Crowley chanced a glance upward. He still kept Warlock’s hand wrapped tightly within his, hoping that if his odd gaze happened to cause offense, these women would see that Warlock, as tired as he was, trusted Crowley. That the boy  _ and  _ the airbender they were currently talking to took no issue with him and therefore, they shouldn’t either. “And though Kyoshi’s shrine is a spiritual place, not even the oldest of our elders has ever heard her speak or seen her with their own eyes there.”

Pointedly, Aziraphale nodded his head, bowing slightly as a sign of respect. “We will, of course, respect any decision you and your people have made,” he assured them. Crowley glanced around, anxiety beginning to crawl up his neck like a spider-cricket as one of them turned to look at him, her brown eyes flying wide as she noticed his abnormal features. To her credit, however, she said nothing, allowing the airbender standing before them to finish speaking. 

“We will not implore you to fight with us,” Aziraphale continued, “or use your island as anything more than a place to rest our heads, should you permit us to.”

“Of course,” the leader replied, bowing graciously in return. “Travelers are always welcome here, so long as they have good intentions.”

The woman glanced over at him, hiding her surprised reaction behind a forced smile. It was clear to Crowley that she had decided he was not enough of a threat to cause a scene so far away from the village. If they had wanted to, the firebender was sure these women could have taken them down without much of a fight. Despite their ornate outfits - or perhaps because of them - they carried themselves like warriors. 

Crowley didn’t know much about Avatar Kyoshi or this island’s story, but he did recognize a fighter when he saw one. And right now, he was looking at a dozen of them. Those were odds he didn’t want to mess with.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” The girl who had initially caught onto him asked as they followed the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors down toward the village. Warlock remained by Crowley’s side as the women had spread out on either side of them. He was pretty sure they weren’t prisoners, not with the way their leader was talking to Aziraphale, but Crowley was fairly certain they weren’t friends either. These women were being cautions, as they should be in times like these.

“Koko!” another girl scolded nearby as she shot the first girl a nasty look. “You can’t just say that to someone.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, in a tone that said she was very much not. “But you can’t blame me for wondering. They’re  _ weird. _ ”

Crowley ignored her, choosing instead to focus on the child’s hand still intertwined with his. Aziraphale had fallen into step a few paces ahead and was currently chatting with the woman who had first interacted with them. She was tall - taller than Aziraphale, with long brown hair that hung in a braid down to her waist. She was a bit older too, than most of her soldiers. Not quite showing grey hair yet, but Crowley had spotted the hint of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth even beneath the brightly colored makeup.

“They’re not weird,” Warlock defended, and Crowley’s heart warmed at the sound. “Haven’t you ever seen a prickle snake before? They have eyes just like Crowley’s.”

The firebender winced at the sound of his name, but none of the women around him seemed to bat an eye. Either Kyoshi Island was more secluded than he thought, or these people had decided that if they trusted Aziraphale, they had to trust him too. No matter what rumors they might have heard. 

“I can take you to one of the guest houses,” the woman up front announced as they stepped down the hill and into the village. Several people were milling about the village, walking to and from the marketplace or just enjoying the cool, crisp morning. A handful of heads turned their way, some with curiosity, others with barely a hint of interest at all. “You can set your things down there and one of my warriors can run and fetch an elder for you to speak - “

“Aziraphale!”

All heads turned in the direction of the voice. A young girl, no older than eighteen, was running up the hill toward them, her short auburn hair swishing back and forth in all directions. Crowley had no idea who this was - he’d had no idea Aziraphale even knew anyone on the island, and by the look of confusion that passed over the airbender’s face, neither did he.

She stopped as she reached them, placing both hands just above her knee as she fought to regain her breath. “You are - Aziraphale - aren’t you?” 

It was then that the light went off. From this position, Crowley could only see the very edge of Aziraphale’s face, but the one eye he  _ could _ see lit up with excitement and relief.

“You’re Bumi’s cousin!” he exclaimed as she held out her arms for a hug. “I’m so sorry, he never told me your name.”

She laughed, and everything finally clicked into place for Crowley. Bumi, the earthbender at the safehouse. The one Aziraphale had been travelling with. The supposed friend of the Avatar’s and the one who had lead Crowley to Omashu in the first place.

“Were you expecting him, Hinata?” the girl who had admonished Koko asked. Bumi’s cousin nodded.

“This is Bumi’s friend,” she explained, as if that would clear everything up. When it did not, the girl gave a quiet huff and continued. “You know, the one he  _ wrote _ to me about. The one who he said might need our help.”

All at once, the Kyoshi Warriors turned to look at Aziraphale, as if seeing him for the first time. Quick glances that flashed between them told Crowley that they all knew exactly who he was.

The leader of the Kyoshi Warriors took a step closer to Aziraphale, bowing once more to show her respect. “If you’d like to spend some time at the shrine, I would be more than happy to take you myself.”

Aziraphale nodded in thanks. “That would be very kind of you. We appreciate it very much.” He then followed her down the rest of the hill, stopping for a moment in front of a long wooden building. It wasn’t exactly an inn. There was no place to buy a plate of food or beds to lay down upon, but they would be able to set up their camping gear and it was large enough for the eel hound to stretch out as much as he liked, which was all Crowley could really ask for.

“Are you - that is - “ Aziraphale broke off as his guide stepped away to lead him to the shrine. A light pink color crept across his cheeks as the airbender glanced toward the ground. “Were you planning on coming with me?”

To the shrine? Or to the Spirit World itself? Cowley had a hard time believing Aziraphale would want him in either location, but if he didn’t, why would he ask? Part of him wanted to say yes. That he’d follow Aziraphale anywhere. But they had other responsibilities to take care of right now. Responsibilities he couldn’t walk away from, no matter how much his heart might want to.

“Er…” the man began, lifting his free hand to rub at the hair that had started to cling to his neck. “I can. I was going to get Warlock settled first.”

Aziraphale’s eyes grew wider. “Of course. Splendid idea. You stay with him and get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He turned to go, but Crowley stopped him with a gentle touch to the back of the airbender’s hand. Aziraphale turned back, something shimmering in the depths of his eyes. It was gone before Crowley could get a good look and the words already on his mind bubbled up, preventing him from switching mid-thought.

“Stay safe.”

A soft smile crept forward onto Aziraphale’s rounded cheeks. For a moment, the firebender wondered what it would feel like to rest his hands on one of them. Were they as smooth as they looked? Were they as warm as his extra senses said they were?

“Of course,” Aziraphale responded with a light squeeze before releasing Crowley’s hand once more. He then turned to Warlock who was practically asleep on his feet, leaning into Crowley’s waist for support. “You pair best get some good rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”

As he turned to walk away, the firebender wondered how much truth there was to that statement. He knew next to nothing about the spirit world. He’d never been there - had never known anyone who had been there. Crowley had never even encountered a spirit in all his travels. Maybe it would be as simple as popping in, doing some quick spirit magic, and popping back out again.

Part of Crowley - a big part - worried it would be much more complicated than that. He watched with an unwavering gaze as the distance between himself and Aziraphale began to widen. Only when he could no longer see those golden curls or feel the familiar heat of the airbender’s body did Crowley finally turn around and tug a sleeping Warlock into the nearby building where they could both find some much needed rest.

* * *

“Is there going to be a big fight?”

Warlock’s soft voice seemed to reverberate across the room. Not in a way that thundered and caused the furniture to shake with each syllable, but in a way that pierced through every last line of defense. Every worry that Crowley had been writing off, each fear that he had been holding back came bubbling to the surface. His hands trembled as he lay them gently on the blanket draped over Warlock’s shoulder, giving him a soft pat in what he hoped was a comforting way.

“I don’t know,” the firebender answered truthfully. “I hope not. If Aziraphale’s plan works, we may not need to fight at all.”

He had no idea whether that statement was true or not. If his companion did manage to track Aang down, would the presence of the Avatar be enough to deter the Fire Nation, or would they plow along anyway? Would the revelation of the missing airbender be enough to split their focus? Could they manage to divert enough of the Fire Nation Navy on a wild goose-hog chase that the Southern Water Tribe could be saved?

“Are you going to go fight with them?”

He was scared. And of course he was. Crowley didn’t blame Warlock at all for the way he was feeling. How could he when the boy had thrust into the middle of an all-out war just weeks ago? He’d had his life threatened, his family put into danger, his future destroyed.  _ Of course _ he’d be scared. Of course he would worry that the worst was still to come.

“I’m going to do whatever I need to in order to make sure you and Aziraphale stay safe.” His heart stuttered at the admission, but Warlock hardly seemed to notice. The boy yawned, snuggling down deeper under the covers as his eyes drifted shut. Smiling softly to himself, Crowley lifted a finger to tuck a strand of hair back behind the child’s ear, a warmth blossoming in his chest as Warlock, without opening his eyes, asked his next question.

“Will you stay with me awhile?”

How could he ever say no to that?

Crowley situated himself on the floor by the boy’s feet, resting his head against the back wall as he listened intently to the birds outside and the gentle sound of Warlock’s breathing. It was midmorning now - he could tell by the light filtering in through the cracks in the shades, striking the very base of the western wall to his left. 

A soft ache began to spread across his entire body. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and was completely exhausted. Perhaps he  _ would  _ take these people up on their offer for a place to rest for the day. He’d set up a spot here, to be nearby in case Warlock woke up and needed his help while Aziraphale was otherwise occupied.

What was Aziraphale doing right now? Had he settled himself into Kyoshi’s shrine? Had he already made it into the spirit world? Crowley had no concept of how these things usually went. Was it a quick experience, crossing over from one world into the other? Or would Aziraphale spend hours getting himself into just the right headspace to take that final step.

Absentmindedly, the firebender allowed his hands to wander, first travelling over the bag he’d placed at his side, and then up the side of his leg to rest upon his lap. Something small and hard caught his attention and Crowley frowned. Quietly, he reached into the depths of his pocket and tugged on a thin cord. The airbender’s pendant - Katone’s pendant. He’d forgotten all about it.

Crowley’s heart sunk to the floor. He’d carried this token along with him for, how long? Months now. Why had he even taken it? That day - standing on the Earth Kingdom shores with Dagon and Bealz. It felt like a lifetime ago. What were those two doing now? Were they still out there, searching for Aziraphale? Or had they given up after trekking halfway across the world with nothing to show for it.

Guilt and fear both welled up inside of him, fighting to gain control. If he knew that duo, which Crowley felt he did, they would not rest until they had Aziraphale in their grasp. How much longer until they changed tactics and thought to do what Crowley had done? What if they chose to track  _ him  _ down instead to find out what he knew? With his tattoos gone, Aziraphale would be able to disappear into the Earth Kingdom much easier. But Crowley? With features as striking as his? It was only a matter of time before the rumors spread far enough for Dagon and Bealz to hear.

“I’m a danger to him,” the man breathed as he turned the small token over and over in his fingertips. Shutting his eyes, Crowley took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. The pendant’s metal edge bit into the palm of his hand, but the firebender took no notice. He had to get out of here. If his presence was the thing that brought the Fire Nation to Aziraphale once more, he would never forgive himself. And if they hurt Warlock because of him - Crowley would do  _ anything _ to keep that from happening. If he left now, could he get far enough away? Give whoever might be pursuing them a different trail to follow. One that lead far, far away from the people he cared about the most.

Or would it be better to stay? If his former companions decided to utilize a shirshu to track him down, it would lead them here no matter what. Would it be better to stay and fight them off when they did come? Or should he double back and try to intercept them? Weave some false tale of what had happened so Aziraphale and Warlock both could stay safe.

Whatever he decided to do, Crowley owed Aziraphale an apology for all that had happened. Not one that was disguised with shock and grief like the word’s he’d spoken at the North Pole. It didn’t matter what he had or had not known at the time. Crowley was responsible for Katone’s death. For leading people like Bealz and Dagon straight to her, and for putting them in danger now. For not doing his research. For assuming their concern would be the Avatar and nothing more.

For not realizing the true horrors this war had brought upon the world.

He did not expect Aziraphale to forgive him. In fact, he would not have been surprised to find the airbender claiming he wanted nothing more to do with Crowley, now that they’d reached Kyoshi. None of that mattered. The firebender would deal with that situation when it came. For now, the very least he could do was return this token to the next rightful owner, and express the thoughts that had been weighing on his heart since that night at the north pole.

Every last one of them.

Checking to ensure Warlock was asleep, the man rose to his feet and, pendant in hand, went to search out Kyoshi’s shrine. It wasn’t that difficult to find, in the end. Crowley had seen which way the village elder had lead Aziraphale when they’d first arrived on the island. All he had to do was follow the path away from the village, up and over the nearest hill.

The shrine was a solitary building, nestled into the tall pine trees of the surrounding forest, overlooking the sea. For a moment, Crowley hovered outside its doors, his feet scuffing up against the paved stone path. Two bonsai trees framed the front entrance, curving up and away from the wooden poles that held up the shingled roof.

What if this was a bad idea? What if, by his going inside, Crowley messed up whatever it was Aziraphale was trying to accomplish? That was certainly the last thing he wanted to do, but this guilt was eating him up inside. He’d never imagined at the start of all this that he would come to care for Aziraphale the way he had. Crowley would do anything to keep the man safe.

If Aziraphale was successful in finding Aang - if in four days their reinforcements arrived and they set off for the South Pole - Crowley might not get another chance to tell Aziraphale what was on his mind. He might not get another chance to formally apologize for all the wrong he’d done. To thank the airbender for giving him the chance to do right.

That was all he needed, really. By now, Crowley was almost certain he loved the other man. It was the only word he could think of to describe the feelings that burst forth in his chest whenever he interacted with the airbender. Whenever they exchanged words or shared stories. Whenever he saw Aziraphale smile. Crowley had never known love before. Not like this. It was a strange, yet wonderful feeling, and he didn’t try to hold it back. He allowed himself to feel it fully, in whatever form it decided to present itself. 

Even though he knew Aziraphale could never feel the same.

“Right,” Crowley muttered, fixing his serpentine gaze on the doorway to the shrine. The token in his palm bit into his skin once more as the man clenched his fist tight, summoning all the courage he possessed before striding inside.

The shrine was much smaller on the inside than it appeared on the outside. It was covered wall to wall in wood paneling, with various relics strewn about. A set of robes hung on the wall to his right, the base tucked behind a pair of colossal boots. In front of him sat her familiar headdress on a bust painted to look just like her, and just beyond that was a table with two golden colored fans.

At the back of the room was a single mural depicting Kyoshi addressing the people of the island out front of this very temple. Sitting right in front of that image, crossed legged on the floor, his eyes closed to the rest of the world, was Aziraphale.

Crowley hovered in the doorway, barely daring to breathe as he watched the other man. It was obvious Aziraphale was in some sort of meditative state. He didn’t acknowledge Crowley at all as he knocked softly on the doorframe or as he padded into the building, the soles of his shoes echoing across the wooden floor. Aziraphale didn’t even open his eyes when he hovered right above him, shifting his weight nervously back and forth between both feet.

“Aziraphale?” the firebender tried quietly, feeling his heart stutter inside his chest. Was he really going to do this? It was obvious his companion was deep in thought. Wouldn’t it be better to talk to him later once all of this was over?

What if there wasn’t time later? What if something happened to Aziraphale in the Spirit World or he found Aang and immediately had to leave? What if he was gone right up to the fight with the Fire Nation. Crowley may not have the time after this part of their journey was over. Even though he didn’t fight on the front lines, he was experienced enough with war to know what the outcome might be. 

Even with the Avatar’s help, they both may not make it to ‘later’. He may not get another chance.

“Can you hear me?”

Nothing. There was no way to tell if Aziraphale could hear him or not. No way to tell if Aziraphale understood what he was saying. All he could do was say what was on his mind and hope for the best. This may very well be the last chance he got. And if it wasn’t?

Well, at the very least he could practice what he might say. It couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Aziraphale?” the man tried again, to the same effect. Aziraphale was either already in the Spirit World, or he was doing his very best to ignore Crowley’s soft attempts to talk to him. Either way, the firebender knew what he had to do.

“I know you probably can’t hear me,” he began cautiously as he knelt down beside the other man, “and I swear to you I will do my best to say this to you again when you come back to us. I’ll say it as many times as I need to - as  _ you  _ need me to.”

He sighed, letting his hands fall open so the pendant dangled from his fingertips, almost brushing up against the floor as he let it swing. “I am so sorry, for everything that has happened to you. Everything that was done by me, and the things that were out of my control.” 

Crowley stopped, took a deep breath, and gently set the pendant down into Aziraphale’s lap, watching as it nestled itself into the folds of his tunic. “You were right when you said there was no excuse for what I’ve done. And I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here - I just want you to know that I understand. I understand what I’ve done and what is at stake - what’s always been at stake and - “

Thank goodness he’d decided to do a trial run, because this was turning into a disaster. Why was it so difficult for Crowley to express what he was feeling? Why was his heart constantly feeling like it was about to burst forth from his chest? Like he might spontaneously combust any second.

“I  _ care _ about you Aziraphale,” Crowley found himself admitting, when no other words made any sense. His hand drifted forward from his lap, hovering in the air between them, stuck between his desire to reach out and the knowledge that such an act would not be appreciated. “More than I ever thought I could. The only thing that I want is to see you happy, to see you  _ safe _ .” 

His eyes trailed up to the airbender’s face, studying every crease of worry, every curl of blonde hair that danced around his eyes. Crowley watched as Aziraphale’s chest rose and fell quietly in gentle rhythm and marveled at how truly beautiful this man was.

“I’d do anything to make that happen,” he found himself admitting, voice no more than a breath of air. “Aziraphale, I think...I think that I love you.”

With a trembling hand, he reached out.Their skin touched for a brief moment as the firebender brushed his fingertips across the inside of Aziraphale’s wrist, sliding them down into his palm as he gave a light squeeze. Crowley had done so with the intention of releasing him once more and returning to Warlock’s side - at least until Aziraphale woke up and they had a real chance to talk.

While well-meant, that intention went out the window the moment Crowley made contact with Aziraphale’s body. He felt the familiar thud of his heart inside his chest, followed by a very strange lurch of his stomach, so violent that it caused the man to cling onto Aziraphale harder. The room spun around him, colors swirling into a mass of brown and gold and green as Crowley shut his eyes and the entire world shifted beneath him. He was tumbling head over heels through the darkness, falling down a vast pit of nothingness. There was a roar of noise in his ears, a heat so intense he thought he might vaporize on the spot.

And when the world finally stilled and he opened his eyes once more, the firebender found that everything had changed and Aziraphale was nowhere to be found. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it, guys. It's time for some Spirit World Shenanigans!!!! I have been looking forward to this next section of the story for SO LONG. I cannot believe we're finally here. 
> 
> Hoping to have the next chapter up sometime this week. It's got a very special surprise to go along with it, so stay tuned!!!
> 
> Thank you all again for your wonderful comments. I know I was gone for a bit, but I'm back and ready to finish out this fic strong. Thank you for sticking with me. I hope you think it is worth it in the end <3


	24. The Spirit Tree

Aziraphale found himself in a clearing.

He always found himself in a clearing whenever he meditated into the spirit world. It had been ten years since the last time he’d done it, and at first, the airbender hadn’t been convinced he would even be able to get here. The leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, Kaori, had brought him straight to the shrine as soon as his identity had been revealed. Apparently, Hinata had let a few of them know about Bumi’s letters to her and while the airbender was sure not everyone on the island knew he was, in fact, an airbender, a decent number of them did. Their curious glances and hushed whispers followed him all the way through the village and out the other side before finally disappearing as he and Kaori began to climb the hill.

She’d left him alone, not bothering to pry any details from him. It was apparent that while the people of Kyoshi had been expecting him and that they were honored to have him as a visitor, that did not change their decision to stay as far away from the war as possible.

Despite the ache in his heart as he settled down into a familiar meditative position, Aziraphale couldn’t blame them. The people of Kyoshi had to look after their own. That was one of the things that made winning this war seem so impossible sometimes. The Earth Kingdom was filled with so many tiny villages and pockets of people. Unless they all banded together or somehow got the attention of Ba Sing Se, joining in the fight against the Fire Nation felt like a suicide mission.

Now that he was here in the Spirit World, Aziraphale tried to push all of those thoughts away. He had one mission now - contact Avatar Kyoshi’s spirit and ask for her help to locate Aang. Everything else could wait.

But how was he supposed to go about doing that?

He certainly wouldn’t find her here just by standing about. The best thing Aziraphale could do would be to find another spirit he could talk to. One that knew the area better than he did and might know who to ask about Kyoshi’s location. And the only way to do  _ that _ was to walk until he found someone.

Easier said than done. The Spirit World was a vast place filled with countless spirits of all different kinds. Varying his direction by a single inch could mean the difference between ending up in a swamp or an active volcano. With no one to guide him and no hint at where he needed to go, Aziraphale was at a severe disadvantage. The clock was running out. 

Still, there was no use worrying about what might happen. All Aziraphale could do was take that first step and hope things turned out alright.

He started walking, shifting easily between the trees as he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of movement. There were no spirits about that he could see, but the air was filled with an energy the likes of which he rarely felt back in the physical world. It buzzed through him, like a spark of lightning, dancing across his skin. The exhaustion that had threatened to overwhelm him hours before was practically non-existent now. If the need arose, Aziraphale was confident he could climb a mountain, or swim across the sea or run for miles. He felt like anything was possible, now that he’d come this far.

Suddenly, the wind began to pick up. It rustled the fabric around his neck, causing Aziraphale to look down in surprise. Instead of the traditional Earth Kingdom clothes he’d been wearing since he’d left Omashu, the airbender was back in the traditional yellow and red robes of his people. The sight of it was alarming at first, but Aziraphale was quickly forced to shift his focus as another gust of wind blew through the clearing, threatening to topple him over.

_ Aziraphale. _

The sound was so distant and low, that for a moment, Aziraphale thought he’d been imagining it. He turned back in the direction he’d come, eyes searching for any sign that someone else was here. He’d been alone when he first arrived, and the airbender couldn’t think of any reason why anyone from the material world would have followed him in. 

Was it possible that the spirits in this area had sensed his presence? Did they know what he’d come here for? Were they trying to get his attention in order to help?

“Hello?” the airbender called out, his voice only wavering a little bit. “Is anyone there?”

Again, the wind seemed to whisper back.  _ Aziraphale. _

How odd. With a small frown, the airbender took a step forward, back to the clearing where he’d first entered the Spirit World. Was someone following him? The voice - for Aziraphale was certain that it had to be a voice - was too deep to be Kyoshi’s and it didn’t sound at all like Aang. Although, he supposed ten years had gone by since he’d last seen the boy. Like himself, the Avatar would be all grown up by now. Was this where he’d been all this time? Hiding away in the spirit world?

“Aziraphale?”

The third time Aziraphale heard the voice, it sounded on the verge of panic. He should have known by the way his heart leapt into his throat who it was, but the airbender’s mind would not allow himself to believe it until he’d rounded the nearest tree and found Crowley standing alone, head swiveling around in every direction, looking for  _ him. _

“Crowley?” he could not help the surprise that seeped into his voice. “Whatever are you doing here?  _ How _ did you get here?”

The firebender whirled around the moment he heard Aziraphale speak. His eyes were blown wide, the black pupils thin vertical slits swimming in the amber pools. He was absolutely terrified, and the sight of it tugged at Aziraphale’s heart.

“You’re ok,” Crowley breathed and that warm feeling came alive once more in Aziraphale’s chest. He nodded, slowly coming to stand beside his companion, trying his very best to ignore the anxiety that was slowly creeping up on him.

“Of course I am,” the airbender offered up with a smile. Why wouldn’t he be? “Is everything ok back in Kyoshi?” It was possible Crowley had managed to find his way here as a warning. Aziraphale had only been in the spirit world for a few minutes, and though time did move a bit differently here, he doubted there would have been enough of it back in the physical world for anything to have happened. Unless they’d been followed all the way from the northern parts of the Earth Kingdom.

Besides, even if Crowley was here to fetch him - travelling to the Spirit World was no easy task. How had someone who’d had no training made his way here? It hardly made any sense.

“No,” the man replied, breathing in deeply through his nose. “No, everything’s alright. I just - “

He broke off, looking around once more, eyes still wide. The fear and panic had left them, but there was still something present just underneath. Some amount of confusion or uncertainty. Like he’d suddenly been dropped headfirst into the ocean and was struggling to figure out which way lead to the surface. 

“You were in the shrine,” he tried to explain, still focusing his eyes anywhere but on Aziraphale’s form. “I put Warlock to bed and came in to check on you. We were talking - I was talking to you, that is and - “

Once again, Crowley abruptly stopped talking. The sudden wind from earlier had calmed down quite a bit, but the firebender was still flitting about like a leaf buffeted by the storm. He could hardly keep his gaze on one thing for more than a second before turning to the next. Hoping the comfort of a steady hand might help their situation, Aziraphale forced back his nerves and reached out.

The moment his hand pressed into Crowley’s shoulder, the man jumped back. Heat rose to Aziraphale’s cheeks and he tried to pay it no mind. “It’s alright,” he tried to assure his companion. Aziraphale couldn’t imagine how jarring this experience must have been for the firebender - for someone who had never been to the Spirit World before, and who had been forced to enter it alone. “You’re in the Spirit World, with me. We’re safe, for the time being, anyway. There’s no need to - “

Crowley whirled around once more, fixing his gaze on Aziraphale’s. The wide-eyed panicked look tugged at his heartstrings. All the airbender wanted to do was to pull Crowley into a tight hug. To take him by the hand and show him that this place was not all ghosts and demons. That there were plenty of  _ beautiful  _ things to be found here. If he only gave this place a chance. 

“Why can’t I feel you?”

What?

The question stopped Aziraphale in his tracks. What was Crowley talking about? Aziraphale was right here, wasn’t he? In fact, he had just reached out to Crowley and the firebender had leapt back from his touch. What did he mean he couldn’t feel Aziraphale?

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale breathed, shifting back and forth from one foot to the next. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

For a moment, Crowley continued to gaze at Aziraphale, his hand hovering in the space between them, as if he was thinking of reaching out. Then, without saying another word, he turned around again, looking behind him this time, shifting seamlessly into a protective stance. Aziraphale recognized the position as a basic firebending form.

That’s right. Crowley didn’t know. Of course he didn’t - he’d never been to the Spirit World before. No one had ever taken the time to explain how it all worked to him.

Smiling softly, Aziraphale took a step forward until he was just peeking into Crowley’s peripheral’s. The firebender looked on edge, but he silently turned his head toward Aziraphale once more, allowing him to speak.

“I’m afraid your bending won’t be of any use in here,” he sighed, offering up an apologetic smile as Crowley slowly moved to stand at his full height once more. “We’re not actually here. Physically, I mean. Our bodies are still back in Kyoshi’s shrine.”

Crowley nodded his head, still not saying a word. Aziraphale wondered if he was absorbing anything at all, or if this whole experience felt like some sort of stress-induced dream. He had stayed awake all night, after all. It wouldn’t be all that surprising to experience hallucinatory dreams after such a feat.

“It’s difficult to explain fully,” he admitted softly taking half a step back, urging Crowley to follow him. “You’ll just have to experience it for yourself.”

The firebender did not move. A frown still lay perched on his face as he studied Aziraphale with unwavering concentration.

“How am I supposed to protect you?”

_ Oh. _ Aziraphale’s heart stuttered in his chest. Was that what this was all about? Crowley was trying to...protect him? Why? Did he care about Aziraphale? Was he trying to make up for the things he’d done wrong in the past? Was protecting Aziraphale his way of restoring balance in his life for what had happened to Katone? Or was there something more?

There were so many possibilities, so many of which made his heart race and his stomach churn and his face turn a rather unpleasant shade of reddish-pink. Clearing his throat softly, the airbender decided to take a chance, one more time. He reached out his hand, far enough that Crowley could take it, if he wished. If he chose not to, it was innocent enough to be brushed off as a casual wave, beckoning him onward.

Crowley did neither of those things. Instead, he turned away from Aziraphale, causing the airbender’s heart to sink. Did Crowley not even want to join him, now that they were both here? Had he decided it was best to just sit and wait until Aziraphale’s mission was complete? Aziraphale had every intention of finding Aang on his own, but the moment Crowley had appeared in this clearing, he’d realized how much better he felt with the firebender here by his side.

“We need to go that way.”

Once again, Azirapahle was shocked into silence. How in the world did Crowley know which way they needed to go? He’d obviously never been n the spirit world before. He had no understanding of what they were looking for or how to go about contacting one of Aang’s previous lives. How could he when Aziraphale didn’t know, himself? Travelling to Kyoshi’s shrine had gotten them into the Spirit World, but it wasn’t as if she was just hanging around here in some vacation home for them to sop by for a visit. And neither one of them was Aang. They couldn’t just close their eyes and connect with her.

Could they?

“What is...that way?” Aziraphale found himself asking. He may have been to the spirit world several times in his youth, but quite some time had passed since then. And it wasn’t like he knew the place like the back of his hand. He was as much a stranger here as Crowley was.

The firebender shrugged. “Beats me.”

That was all the explanation he was going to get? How on earth did Crowley expect to convince him with logic like that.

Before Aziraphale could argue, the man turned around and fixed him with a soft gaze that caused the words to die in his throat. Inside his chest, Aziraphale could feel his heartbeat fluttering more rapidly than usual. Could Crowley sense it? Is that what he’d meant earlier? Did this man have some special abilities that Aziraphale had yet to uncover?It would explain his miraculous escape from the Fire Navy ships, but left the airbender with far more unanswered questions.

“I’ve got a feeling,” Crowley explained, voice much softer now that his initial panic had passed. “It’s like something is...calling to me. There’s no voice or anything. Just a - I don’t know how to explain.”

Aziraphale nodded, to show he understood, even though the truth was he didn’t. Sometimes, these things just couldn’t be explained. 

“Right then,” the airbender announced with a smile. Crowley’s feeling - whatever it may be - was certainly better than nothing. “Lead the way.”

Step by step, the clearing they’d been standing in began to transform. First, into a brightly lit forest. The sun shining down in dappled patterns across the earthy floor. Even though Crowley was leading them, he remained a half step behind Aziraphale, keeping the airbender in his peripherals at all times. If Aziraphale slowed down, Crowley slowed down, not once letting him fall behind.

_ Why can’t I feel you?  _ The question echoed around in his mind. Was that what this was? Crowley couldn’t feel him anymore, now that they were in the spirit world, and so he had to keep Aziraphale in his sights to know that he was still there? To know that he was safe? It sounded like an insane conclusion to reach, but no matter how he thought of it, that was the only conclusion to be found.

As they continued to walk, those patches of sunlight grew further and further apart, until eventually, it ceased to exist at all. The trees grew closer and closer together, their branches darker and darker until Aziraphale had to wonder whether night had already fallen, or if they’d managed to wander their way into a cave of some sort without realizing it. 

Crowley paid the darkness no mind. In fact, he hardly faltered at all, letting some unseen force guide him along their path. Aziraphale used the term ‘path’ loosely at best. It wasn’t really a path at all, rather a series of spaces between the trees. Leaves crunched beneath his feet, which the airbender found quite odd, as as far as he was aware, the Spirit World was experiencing a full-blown summer. All the leaves were still attached to their branches. So where had all these extras come from? 

“Don’t you think it’s odd?” Aziraphale asked, breaking the silence at last. This feeling of uneasiness had been building up inside of him. He could no longer keep quiet.

Instead of responding, Crowley hummed absentmindedly, hand instinctively reaching for the weapon strapped to his back, only to find he didn’t have one. That, along with his bending, had remained in the physical world.

“We’ve been walking for some time now, and we haven’t seen a single spirit,” Aziraphale mused. Surely, they should have seen or heard something by now. But the forest had been quiet.

Too quiet.

“I wonder where they’ve all run off to.”

Crowley huffed. “Probably somewhere safe, which this is not. I don’t know why I let you talk yourself into this.”

Aziraphale could have argued. He could have pointed out that Crowley had, in fact,  _ never _ been here before and was in far more danger than Aziraphale, but in a way, the airbender almost...enjoyed the quip. Warmth spread throughout his chest and no matter how hard he tried, he could not keep the smile from tugging at the edge of his lips, nor the heat from entering his cheeks.

“Or,” the firebender continued, stopping quite abruptly, his attention focused entirely in front of them. “They could all be hiding out there.”

Before them stood a giant tree. It was larger than anything Aziraphale had ever seen, towering over them with branches that must have stretched on for miles. Even from his place on the forest floor, Aziraphale could see hundreds of spirits flitting about - jumping from branch to branch, soaring high over their nests. The energy in the air was more intense than when he’d first arrived. If that had been a spark of lightning, this was a full thunderstorm of it. 

It was  _ beautiful.  _ Unlike anything Aziraphale had ever seen or heard of. So many spirits in one place, coexisting together. Building their homes and raising their young. Not a fight or squabble to be seen. He could practically feel the safety and security this place seemed to emanate from every leaf upon even the tiniest of branches.

“Do you think one of them might know how to find Kyoshi?” Aziraphale asked, the breath rushing from his lungs as he stared in wonder. What  _ was  _ this place? How, in all their teachings, had the monks never mentioned something like this existed. 

“Only one way to find out.”

Something stirred in the shadows at the base of the tree. Instinctively, Aziraphale’s hand reached out, fingers closing around Crowley’s wrist as he tugged the man back to his side. For a moment, the firebender’s amber eyes widened, silently asking the question he had no time to put words to. Why had Aziraphale stopped him when they’d finally found something that might help them? What had he seen to make him hesitate?

Seconds later, that question was answered as a figure emerged from the shadows. Inky black scales, crimson belly, and fangs so sharp it looked like they could puncture the hull of a Fire Nation ship. The sight of it sent chills down Aziraphale’s spine.  _ Danger, _ his mind all but screamed at him as the spirit slithered forward, gaze fixed on the pair of them with unblinking eyes.

Eyes that were strikingly,  _ achingly, _ familiar. 

Aziraphale felt his breath catch in his chest, unable to move in or out. His heart exploded, bringing with it a rush of adrenaline as the ‘fight or flight’ instincts began to kick in. He tugged at Crowley’s arm, silently pleading with the man to come with him, but Crowley was rooted to the spot. His attention was fixed on this serpentine spirit as it uncoiled from the base of the tree and moved forward into the sunlight.

This spirit was far larger than any serpent Aziraphale had ever seen, just as he assumed most animal-like spirits were. Had it been present in the physical world, it would have been large enough to ingest a platypus-bear whole without batting an eye. And the  _ wings _ . Huge, eagle-hawk like wings spread out from multiple points along its body. Three sets in all, from what Aziraphale could see. Feathers as black as the spirit’s scales, tinged carmine at the tips in a way that made them look almost blood-stained. Battle-hardened. Fierce and strong and  _ dangerous. _

One single hiss was all that was needed for Aziraphale to spring into action. The sound reverberated around them, shaking the nearby trees and making him feel like he might fall apart at the seams. In front of them, Aziraphale could see the muscles in the spirit's body coiling, shifting back and forth beneath its iridescent scales, preparing to strike. 

He moved instinctively. There was no time to plan or strategize what to do next. No airbending to help them get out of this confrontation. It was clear to him now that this spirit, whoever they were, was not planning on letting either human get one step closer. In fact, Aziraphale was almost certain they’d stepped too far already. 

“Move!” the word ripped from his throat as he lunged at Crowley’s still form. The firebender hadn’t shifted his stance, hadn’t reacted at all to the obvious danger they had stumbled into. It was almost as if he were frozen in shock, taking in the sight of this creature that looked like it had slunk its way out of a child’s nightmare.

In that same moment, the spirit darted forward to strike at the place where the firebender once stood. Hot air rushed by his foot as the spirit’s jaws snapped shut mere inches from Aziraphale’s leg. He tumbled to the floor, rolling over several times before settling on his hands and knees protectively over his companion. Pain shot through his knees and elbows and the airbender did his best to ignore it. Assuming they got out of this alive, there would be time to examine himself for injury later. 

In any other circumstance, Aziraphale might have taken the moment to admire how fetching Crowley’s red hair looked against the dusty ground beneath them, or how even filled to the brim with shock, his eyes seemed to glow like miniature suns. The curve of his jaw, a sharp contrast to the softness of his neck and shoulders. It made Aziraphale want to reach down and run his palm across them. To feel the thrum of Crowley’s pulse and the heat of his body, which of course, they didn’t have here in the Spirit World. Still, in that moment charged with fear and exhilaration, he couldn’t help but want.

There was no time for any of that. Not if they wanted to stay alive long enough to make a difference back in the physical world. People were counting on them, after all. What a sad ending to their saga this would be, were they to never make it back. 

“We have to get out of here,  _ now.” _

Thankfully, Crowley listened this time. With wide eyes, he scrambled back, reaching out a hand as Aziraphale got to his feet. With all the strength he had left to give, the airbender pulled his companion up alongside him and the two flung themselves apart as the spirit launched at them again. This time, Aziraphale managed to stay on his feet, veering to the right around the nearest tree where he met up with Crowley on the other side.

“What do you say we get out of here?” he asked, breathlessly, wondering if the man might freeze up again like he had when the spirit first emerged. 

Instead, Crowley nodded his head and reached out his hand, tugging Aziraphale off in a different direction, far away from the massive tree full of spirits and the being that lurked beneath. Aziraphale followed silently behind, the only sound emerging from either of them were crunching feet across the fallen leaves and the soft gasps as they fought to replenish the air in their lungs. 

“I thought you said you’d never been here before,” Aziraphale breathed when they finally stopped running. Crowley’s hand slipped from his, much to the airbender’s disappointment. He drew in another deep breath, fighting to come to terms with all that they’d just been through.

“I haven’t,” Crowley responded, and he seemed sincere. If that were the case, then what explanation could there be for what had just happened to them both. If Crowley had really never stepped foot outside of the physical world, how was it that he’d been able to find the one spirit in existence with eyes just like his own?

Aziraphale tried again. “I don’t understand - “

“Neither do I.”

Silence fell among the pair. They were still in the forest, but it was a much more peaceful silence than the one they’d ran across before. The trees were spaced further apart again and it appeared that night had fallen. This, of course, did not necessarily mean that they’d spent a full day in the Spirit World. Time moved differently here. It could have been only a few minutes back on Kyoshi Island and they would never know. It would also benefit him to remember that just because this spot showed stars shining brightly overhead did not mean that it would be night were they to return to the clearing. Each place in the spirit world operated on their own time, in their own way. 

What did they do now? It was obvious whatever clue they thought they had was something else entirely. Aziraphale doubted Avatar Kyoshi’s would be hanging about in some spirit-laden tree guarded by...that monstrous creature. He shuddered just thinking about having to go back. She must be somewhere else, but where did they look? Who could they ask for help? Where had they even ended up?

“Think there might be anyone down there?”

Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley for a moment. He had both hands up by his face, pulling his hair into a tight bun atop his head. There were still leaves and bits of twig strewn about it, and for a moment the airbender had an urge to step closer and help pick the largest pieces out. Then, that moment passed and he thought better of it. They were both shaken enough as it was. No need to throw confusing, inexplicable feelings into the mix.

At Crowley’s gentle nod, the airbender focused back on the space before them. They were still a ways into the forest, but in the distance Aziraphale could just make out the edge of it. Now, there was an actual path at their feet, leading in a gentle slope downward into a lush valley with mountains at the opposite end.

“You know,” the firebender continued, glancing sideways for a moment before averting his gaze. “Someone who doesn’t want to kill us on sight.”

What a terrible way to first experience this place. Aziraphale knew that not everything in the Spirit World was safe. There were malicious spirits. Spirits that wanted to trick and steal and harm, but that didn’t mean everything here was bad. In fact, apart from this harrowing tale, most of Aziraphale’s memories were good ones. He only wished there was a way for Crowley to see that.

“I promise,” Aziraphale assured, not sure what else to say. “Not every spirit will want to cause us harm. We just got a bit unlucky before, that’s all.”

He did not know what else to say to that. Crowley was refusing to look at him now, and for the life of him, Aziraphale could not figure out why. Was he embarrassed for the way he’d reacted earlier? Scared of what might come next?

Worried that they were not yet out of danger’s path?

“And now?”

Once again, Aziraphale felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through his body as his eyes immediately flew to the valley before them and the mountain beyond. Trees on either side swayed lightly with the breeze and in the distance he could see the first light of morning.

There was another spirit drifting lazily across the vast expanse before them. She was tall - taller than any trees nearby, with a glowing tornado-like base that disturbed nothing around her. Her body was lithe and long, made up of what appeared to be bits of tree and vine. Upon her neck rested a head with multiple faces, all beautiful in their own right, their eyes obscured with thick, horn-like objects sticking out of each forehead, creating a broad crown across her head.

In front of her padded a large wolf, with shimmering fur like stars, leading her down the path he had chosen. And, despite the distance still between them, Aziraphale could see the hundreds of smokey faces collected on either side of her. Faces that had been long forgotten and faces that had yet to be known. 

A sense of awe and relief flooded Aziraphale’s entire being at the sight of her. This spirit he knew, not personally, but by the stories told about her. This spirit, he was familiar with enough to know that so long as they showed her the respect she deserved, they would not be harmed. 

In fact, as one of the most ancient of spirits, she might even be able to help them find Kyoshi. Or better yet, find Aang. As long as they remained calm and spoke with reverence, they just might be able to walk out of this place in one piece. 

The Mother of Faces would either be their downfall or their salvation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it! We finally made it to the Mother of Faces, which means I have a special surprise for you!!!!! (Click on the 'Next Chapter' link to see <3 <3 <3)
> 
> What did you guys think of Aziraphale and Crowley's first experiences in the Spirit World? Are you excited to find out more about that mysterious winged serpent? There's going to be a lot of questions answered in the next few chapters, but if you've got any on your mind, feel free to drop them in the comments and I'll make sure to include all that information!
> 
> For anyone interested, the serpent spirit's name is Bahou Zhe and he's an original creation of mine! You'll find out more about him next chapter, but I wanted you to know I've put a lot of thought into him and am really excited to show him off a bit. I am also working on some art to help you all picture him a bit better, so I'll be sure to post that when I finish it up!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Hearing from you guys (even if it's just something short) lets me know people still find this story interesting and it quite honestly motivates me to keep going. I could not have gotten this far in this story without your constant encouragement.
> 
> P.S. Gonna plug one of my other projects (because why not?). I transitioned to digital art recently, and to practice my character drawing some, I've started a new Good Omens AU based on The Borrowers (Secret World of Arrietty) and Thumbelina! I'm posting art for it every few days on my Instagram (www.instagram.com/beckers_522) and will eventually be turning it into a full blown AU! If you're a fan of Studio Ghibli or want to hear a story about a tiny Crowley and Aziraphale going on crazy adventures in a human-sized world, feel free to check it out!


	25. Art: The Mother of Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I had this wonderful artwork commissioned by azeher on tumblr (https://azeher.tumblr.com/). It turned out so so well and I'm very excited I finally get to share it with you all.
> 
> Off to write the chapter with The Mother of Faces now! See you all in (hopefully) a few days!
> 
> If you have trouble viewing the image, you can also find it here:
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CHD8xm-jPLP/?igshid=bnn4x3t55do7

_Once again, Aziraphale felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through his body as his eyes immediately flew to the valley before them and the mountain beyond. Trees on either side swayed lightly with the breeze and in the distance he could see the first light of morning._

_There was another spirit drifting lazily across the vast expanse before them. She was tall - taller than any trees nearby, with a glowing tornado-like base that disturbed nothing around her. Her body was lithe and long, made up of what appeared to be bits of tree and vine. Upon her neck rested a head with multiple faces, all beautiful in their own right, their eyes obscured with thick, horn-like objects sticking out of each forehead, creating a broad crown across her head._

_In front of her padded a large wolf, with shimmering fur like stars, leading her down the path he had chosen. And, despite the distance still between them, Aziraphale could see the hundreds of smoky faces collected on either side of her. Faces that had been long forgotten and faces that had yet to be known._

_A sense of awe and relief flooded Aziraphale’s entire being at the sight of her. This spirit he knew, not personally, but by the stories told about her. This spirit, he was familiar with enough to know that so long as they showed her the respect she deserved, they would not be harmed._

_In fact, as one of the most ancient of spirits, she might even be able to help them find Kyoshi. Or better yet, find Aang. As long as they remained calm and spoke with reverence, they just might be able to walk out of this place in one piece._

_The Mother of Faces would either be their downfall or their salvation._


	26. A Serpent's Gaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of child endangerment. If you want to skip that part avoid the italicized bits toward the very end of the chapter

Crowley’s whole body was rigid as he watched the two spirits approaching. After everything they’d  _ just _ experienced, he half expected Aziraphale to run for the hills, but the airbender remained motionless. A half step forward brought Crowley level to his companion’s face and he saw not fear reflected in those deep, blue eyes, but what appeared to be a sense of awe. Did Aziraphale know this spirit? Crowley certainly didn’t, but that was to be expected. He’d never stepped foot in the spirit world before today. He’d never even seen a spirit before. But Aziraphale? He had to assume Aziraphale had spent over half his life learning about the spirits - being raised by monks and all. 

She was terrifying, in an almost inspiring way. The trees rippled like waves as she passed, although there was no wind. Tiny critters hopped from branch to branch, all displaying strange markings on their backs or wings or elsewhere that almost looked like faces, if he squinted in just the right way. Who was this spirit? And why did Aziraphale seem to believe she might be of some help to them?

Crowley wanted to ask, but his voice stuck in his throat. His heart was still pounding from what they had just endured. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw those, brilliant - terrifying - eyes staring back at him. Those eyes full of menace and hatred and something truly monstrous. Those eyes that were identical to his own. Crowley didn’t understand it. He had been telling Aziraphale the truth when he claimed never to have been to the spirit world, so why did that particular spirit seem so familiar? And how, out of all the places they could have gone, did its home call out to Crowley, like a beacon in the night?

Even now, he could still feel the pull - gently coaxing him back to the place they’d just run from. The firebender tried to shake the feeling away. They had other things to deal with right now - another spirit who was making her way closer and closer to them. Step by step.

In that moment, he felt torn. Torn between the desire to keep Aziraphale in his sights at all times and the inability to look away from the grand spirit currently approaching them. It had been terribly disorienting when he first found himself here, unable to sense anything outside of his own body. Crowley was so used to extending his senses and feeling for other presences nearby, but here in the Spirit World, there were no physical bodies. There was nothing for him to sense, and he was blinder than he ever remembered being in his entire life. 

Before them, the spirit slowed, her faithful companion padding silently by her side. She turned one of her faces toward them, the branches reaching up from her shoulders and winding their way around the place where her eyes should have been. Still, Crowley had the sudden sensation that she could see them quite clearly - likely better than anyone else had in his life, up until this point in time. 

“It has been quite some time since I have seen humans step foot in the spirit world.” her voice was soft, controlled. Strong enough to shake the trees around them, and yet, Crowley found his anxieties beginning to fade as the spirit came to rest in front of them. At her side, the wolf spirit came to sit, bright orange eyes never leaving Crowley’s face.

“And even longer since I have come across anyone who knows my face.”

Crowley turned toward Aziraphale, wondering what in the world this spirit could be talking about.  _ He _ certainly had never met this spirit before. Crowley had never met any spirit before today. It was clear, however, the moment his eyes fell on Aziraphale’s face, that the airbender knew exactly who this was.

“Mother of Faces,” Aziraphale greeted, bringing his hands forward in a respectful bow. Heart leaping in his chest, Crowley rushed to copy the motion, painfully aware that the wolf’s orange gaze had never left his face. “It is an honor to find ourselves in your presence.”

She gazed down at the pair with unseeing eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. As much as he tried to fight the thoughts off, visions of that foul creature flashed through his mind once more. That serpentine spirit who had tried to rip them to shreds. The sharp ivory teeth - rippling muscles beneath iridescent scales. Bright amber eyes that looked exactly like his own. Crowley wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and block it all out, but doing so truly  _ would  _ make him blind. Heart hammering in his chest, he had the sudden desire and reach out for Aziraphale’s hand, craving the reassurance that the airbender was here with him. That this wasn’t all just some horrible nightmare he’d stumbled into after the stressful journey to Kyoshi.

“You have traveled far from home,” the Mother of Faces remarked, trees around her still rustling in the non existent breeze. “What brings you both to my domain?”

Crowley turned to Aziraphale. This was his area of expertise after all, and the longer they stood here, the more he felt like this spirit’s gaze was boring into him. Drawing forth every dark thought he wished he could push away and forget completely. He wanted to get  _ out _ of here. Out of this strange new world and back into one that made sense. Forget the Fire Nation, forget missing Avatars. Forget being on the run and saving the world. All Crowley wanted to do was grab Aziraphale’s hand and run away with him. Far away, to a place neither one of them would ever be found. Where they could live the rest of their lives in peace and safety, and maybe even a bit of happiness. Together.

As if Aziraphale would even want that. To live together, with him of all people?

“We were hoping to locate Avatar Kyoshi,” Aziraphale explained, hesitating a bit at the end as he thought about what to say next. Crowley felt himself frowning. Did it benefit them to hold certain information back? Or should they go ahead and tell this spirit everything? “The current Avatar has gone missing for some time now, and the world out there could really use his help.”

The spirit seemed to ponder their words carefully. Silently. One of her faces still trained on them, although Crowley suddenly got the sense that she was not looking at them anymore, but past them. Gaze drifting down the forest path they’d come from, as if she could see the very place they had entered the Spirit World some unknown time ago.

“I’m afraid you will not be able to find her here.”

Crowley’s chest deflated. Of course, he had no reason to believe she was telling them the truth, but something about the way her words drifted around them felt real. What reason would she have to lie to them? And, more importantly, what were they supposed to do now?

In the moments that followed, neither he nor Aziraphale could find the words to speak. Assuming time moved the same in here, they had just under four days until the Fire Nation arrived at the shores of the South Pole and erased the Southern Water Tribe. Just as they had done with the airbenders. Kuzon and the others said they would bring reinforcements, but how many people could they gather in such a short amount of time. And who, except for the Avatar himself, might stand a chance at making a difference in the battle that was looming over their heads?

“But…” Aziraphale’s voice was quiet. Pained. “But we came all this way.”

Instead of chastising them for making such a foolish journey or simply ignoring them to continue on her way, the Mother of Faces paused, turning her attention to the forest beyond them. Then back to Aziraphale.

“It is true that some humans are able to remain here in the Spirit World once they die,” she explained. Beside her, the wolf spirit finally moved to sit at her side, sensing that this conversation might take some time. Crowley’s eyes shifted back and forth from his companion to the spirit standing before them, his entire body tense and ready to react. Deep down, he knew there was nothing he could do here, if she decided to be rid of them. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going down without a fight. 

“The Avatar has been, and always will be, a special case. Roku and Kyoshi and all the avatars before them do not simply reside in the Spirit World to heed your beck and call. The Avatar and the Avatar alone has the ability to connect with them and ask them for guidance.”

Silence fell across the forest. Even the creatures and critters hovering around them stilled in that moment as humans and spirits stood facing each other. Crowley struggled to find something to say. If Kyoshi wasn’t here - if they couldn’t find a way to locate Aang, what was the backup plan? What were they supposed to do now?

“I sense a great sadness surrounding you both,” she said once the silence between them had become deafening. “Your lives have not been easy.”

For a moment, Crowley thought she was referring to the sudden sense of defeat that had washed over them both. That she had felt their hopelessness and despair. Then, he thought about the words she had chosen to use.  _ Your lives have not been easy. _

What exactly did that mean? What did she know? And how had she come across that knowledge?

“How did you - “ Aziraphale asked, his voice catching in his throat. Crowley felt a wave of guilt flood his chest and he turned his attention away from the airbender, trying not to think about the ruined temples and cottages in the woods. Of Katone and an oasis. Lost heritage and lost lives - some of which  _ he _ had cost.

“I am the Mother of Faces,” she repeated, her voice taking on almost an echo to it as the leaves continued to flutter above them. “Through me, separateness came into the world. Through me came identity.” For a moment, she paused, and then, when neither one of them said a word, she continued.

“I have hand crafted every face this world has ever known. From the smallest mouse-vole to the most legendary in human history. With each of those faces comes a unique life. A unique set of memories. Memories that I can sense upon you as easily as I can see each individual feature of the faces I once created.”

Crowley was at a loss for words. Yes, he understood spirits were powerful beings, even if he didn’t spend much time thinking about them in the physical world, but being able to sense their memories? Even that seemed a bit of a stretch.

“Once per season, I traverse the physical world in search of a soul in need of help. Once per season, I choose to grant a single human the choice of a new face. A new identity, and if they wish it, a new set of memories to accompany their new life.”

Inside his chest, Crowley’s heart leapt in anticipation. This could be Aziraphale’s chance. A new name - new sets of memories. He could escape the Fire Nation once and for all. He could forget his airbending, forget everyone he’d loved and lost. He would become a new person, could live the rest of his life out in the safety of the Earth Kingdom. He could return to Omashu and never be found.

He would be safe.

“I sense you both would benefit from such an offer,” the Mother of Faces continued when neither one of them spoke. Crowley chanced a glance over at Aziraphale, trying to gauge his reaction, but for once, the airbender was still as a stone. “You must decide between yourselves which will accept.”

Immediately, Crowley turned to face Aziraphale head on, the demand that his companion accept on the tip of his tongue. Blue eyes met amber and the words vanished. Crowley felt his heart lodge itself in his throat at the tender expression on the airbender’s face. Blood pulsed, hands trembled. He felt caught between reaching out and turning tail to run away.

_ Say something, _ Crowley found his mind all but screaming. There were so many words he wanted to say, but none seemed able to come out.  _ What are you thinking? What are you thinking, Aziraphale? Please say something. _

If he wasn’t so enraptured with the look of pure  _ softness _ and  _ caring  _ on Aziraphale’s face, Crowley might have been able to better brace himself for what came next. Without warning, the Mother of Faces reached out, brushing her hand across his forehead from his right temple to his left. All of a sudden, Crowley was no longer standing in a forest. Aziraphale was gone. The Mother of Faces was gone. The spirit world was gone. All that remained was a single room with windows on both sides. A bed, a desk. Some toys strewn across the floor. And a young boy, no older than four or five, with his ear pressed up against the door.

Muffled sounds could be heard from the other side and it was clear to Crowley that this boy was happened to be listening in on the conversation. By the sound of it, Crowley guessed it had to be the boy’s parents - arguing just down the hall. 

_ He’s far behind the other children his age, and hasn’t shown a single hint of firebending. We have to do something or he will bring dishonor to our entire family. _

_ He’s just a child. Give him time. I’m sure he will come into his bending eventually. _

_ We don’t have that time to give him. It’s time we took matters into our own hands. _

The boy turned around, tiring of the conversation that was obviously directed at him. Had he not been a spectral form floating through this memory, Crowley would have felt the world shift beneath his feet. That boy was  _ him.  _ Small, frail, with jet black hair and eyes the deepest brown he’d ever seen. How could this be? True, his family hadn’t owned many portraits of the three of them, but as far as Crowley could remember, his striking hair and terrifying eyes had always been with him. And yet, this child was an identical copy of Crowley. Who  _ was  _ this boy? And what had happened to him?

Although he could not see it, Crowley felt the gentle pressure of a hand wrapped within his. He blinked and turned his head, to find no one there. The space beside him was empty, but the firebender was certain he could feel the presence of another beside him. Aziraphale? Could it be the airbender was still with him after all?

Tears pricked at his eyes at the thought of Aziraphale standing beside him, holding his hand through this inexplicable experience. Before he had time to contemplate the reasoning behind such an emotional reaction - whether it was a reaction fueled by love or by fear - the scene around him shifted. The younger version of himself was dressed in fine robes, one hand on each of his shoulders as he was lead down a long hallway into a vast chamber lit with red light. Half a dozen older men, dressed in the distinct clothing of the fire sages met the young family, one of them smiling down at the young boy before leading him into the center of the room.

_ The barrier between worlds is thinnest at the solstice,  _ one of them explained as the vision before him shifted again. Still, the words could be heard as an echo across the room as the sun marched forward faster than time normally allowed, casting intricate shadows across the domed room.

_ If we just wait until the right moment, you should get your chance to plead your case to the spirits. See if they can help your son.  _

With each passing moment, the scenes appeared to shift by faster and faster even as time itself seemed to slow down. There he was, a young boy who had no control over the elements. Two parents desperate to prove their family’s worth to their nation and Fire Lord Sozin himself. A group of spiritual leaders hoping to help as best they could. 

Shadows continued to move across the walls and Crowley watched with unblinking eyes. This had to be someone else - how could he not remember this part of his past? Had he been too young? Or had something else happened to force his mind to block the memories out? It didn't make any sense. 

All too soon, the sun reached its zenith, illuminating the room in a blinding red glow. At his side, Crowley felt the invisible hand squeeze tightly around his. It had to be Aziraphale. There was no other explanation for the way his heart was racing inside his chest in that moment - not urged on by fear or shock at what he was witnessing, but fueled by the strong feelings the airbender had been stirring up inside him for quite some time now.

Brighter and brighter the light grew until all shapes within the room vanished. Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the light cleared once more. Silence fell, and for one brief moment there was nothing. Wide eyes and shocked silence, but not a signal or sign of a spirit in sight.

In the next breath, a red-hot fire engulfed the room. A wordless shout of rage accompanied it, coming from a man standing just off center. Crowley watched in horror as a blazing inferno launched itself from his father’s hand directly towards the small child still seated in the middle of the room, oblivious to it all. 

Startled, some of the sages turned towards the blaze. Some were fast enough to jump out of the way. Others threw their hands up to quell the attack, but the fire kept coming. A cry of alarm rose up from the only woman among them as Crowley’s mother grabbed for her husband’s arm.

_ What are you doing? You’ll hurt him. _

_ If he’s a real firebender, he’ll figure out how to protect himself. _

_ And if he’s not? _

_ Then he’s no son of mine! _

Crowley felt sick to his stomach. Although he had no physical body at the moment, he could feel his hands beginning to tremble. The firebender could barely collect his thoughts enough to register what was unfolding in front of his eyes, let alone understand why he had a sinking feeling something terrible was about to happen. 

The sages grabbed at the young boy. His mother positioned herself between them, fending off as much of the fire as she could manage. Even still, some of the onslaught slipped through, heading straight for the child with deadly accuracy.

A bright light flashed, stealing Crowley’s breath from his lungs. Reflexively, he shut his eyes and in the silence that followed, opened them to find a single, solitary spirit among them. His entire body stretched around the center of the room, coiled in a tight circle around the vulnerable child. Bright amber eyes stared out at the benders gathered around and Crowley felt a chill run down his spine.

It was all coming back now. He knew exactly what was about to happen, even though the detailed memory still eluded his grasp. These memories were the missing pieces he needed for the story. His story. 

The moment that serpentine spirit made his appearance, Crowley understood. That sinking feeling deep inside his chest grew larger and larger, threatening to devour him whole. This was it. This was the reason he had felt drawn to that tree. This was the  _ reason _ he looked so strange - his eyes, his hair, his ability to sense other creatures around him.

This event unfolding before his eyes was the reason the rest of the world saw him as a monster.

A hiss sounded throughout the room, so deep and rumbling it shook the ground beneath them. All chaos around them ceased as the spirit positioned itself around the young boy, its massive neck and head drifting from side to side as those fearsome amber eyes fell upon the man who had chosen to put his son’s life in danger.

No words were said. Silence clung to the walls as every soul waited in anticipation for what came next. No matter how much he wished he could look away, Crowley’s eyes were fixed on the terrified young boy in the center of the room and the spirit currently wrapped around him. 

Time slowed. Crowley felt himself trapped in that moment - that memory - for what felt like a century. He remembered now. All too clearly, he remembered what came next, and the thought of it made him tremble so violently, not even Aziraphale’s presence could calm him.

The next fireball came out of nowhere, a huge swirl of reds and yellows and oranges headed straight for the center of the room. Shadows sprawled across the wall and Crowley felt his gaze drawn to them, unable to look at the actual event unfolding. He watched as the serpentine spirit lifted its head up, wings outstretched in all their glory, shadows reaching from one end of the room to the other. He watched as the shadow, serpentine form dove downward, a soft glow emanating starting at the tip of its pointed nose, quickly spreading across the black and red scaled body as light filled the chamber once more.

He watched as the spirit plunged itself into the boy's body as he stood cowering. The moment their forms made contact a wall of red and black flames erupted from the floor. Fire surrounded by shadows, absorbing the other man's attack like it was nothing and then spreading outward like wildfire. Everyone in the room scrambled to get away, using their bending if they could to create small pockets of protection around themselves or their neighbor. Darkness spread outward behind the shadowy flames until they slammed up against the wall and sizzled into nothingness, leaving behind only silence.

Eventually, the darkness faded. Light began to filter back in through the chamber, falling across the stone floor and scattering over the figure of a small boy standing alone in the center of the room. A small boy with his hands outstretched, red flames still flickering at his feet. A boy whose hair had been stained a crimson and whose eyes would forever more reflect the serpent’s amber gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo....now you know what happened to Crowley. There's a little bit left of the tale that I'm hoping to tie up next chapter. I don't know how it happened, but I've got 4 ongoing WIPs at the moment (plus my art - check my out on instagram! www.instagram.com/beckers_522) and I went on a writing hiatus for a while over the holidays. I'm getting back into the swing of things, but I might be hopping around a bit these next few weeks as I find my rhythm again.

**Author's Note:**

> Blanket statement before we get started - if anything I write in this story or any of my others inspires you in any way, please please don't be shy about it :) I want to see all your art, your one-shots, drabbles, songs, all of it. If you send me something, oftentimes I'll ask for your permission to share it or add it to the fic. 
> 
> Also, comments and kudos are my life. I cannot express to you 1) how happy it makes me to read your thoughts, whether they be well-penned paragraphs or a string of emojis. I love and welcome and encourage all positive feedback. And 2) how motivating that feedback is. For those of you who have read my most popular work ("The Stars Walk Backward"), I finished that one in just over 2 weeks, and I can promise you the sole reason for that was the amount of encouragement I got along the way. So please, if you feel lead, pop in and say hello. Scream in excitement with me over what's happening in the story. Gush about how much you want these two to get together. Engage with me :) everytime you do seriously makes my day so much brighter. 
> 
> As far as I can tell, this is the first Good Omens AU set in the Avatar world. The show has just been added to Netflix and a lot of people are watching or re-watching (which makes me so so happy - if you haven't seen the show, I highly highly recommend it!). Both of these stories hold a very special place in my heart, and I vow to do my best to bring you all a tale worthy of them both. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for giving this story a chance. Let's get on with it and have some fun, shall we? ;)
> 
> Find me on social media!  
> https://twitter.com/beckers522  
> https://braver-stronger-smarter.tumblr.com/


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